Acquiescence
by Sytel
Summary: Alternate outcome of Hide and Q. Riker accepts Q's offer, in the interests of diplomacy... on the condition that he gets to keep his day job. But Picard's resentment of Q puts Riker in a tense position...
1. Chapter 1

"All that I'm asking, Picard," Admiral Nakamura said from the comlink on Picard's desk, "is that you look at this as a diplomatic opportunity. After the... unfortunate circumstances of our first contact with the Q, we're very lucky to have this chance. We don't know what they can actually do, or what regions they consider their territory, and to flatly refuse their offer seems... short-sighted."

From an objective standpoint, Picard had to admit, Nakamura would seem to have a point; with any other alien race, the proposition they'd offered to Riker would be welcomed, a chance to begin an open relationship and move past their tense first encounter. But this wasn't just any alien race. This was Q they were dealing with, and although his dealings with the entity so far had been limited, Picard knew that he was a different matter. It was not exactly a rational belief, though, nor was it one he could readily communicate to the Admiral.

Instead, he tried something that could be put into words more easily. "What worries me is the power involved," he said. "Even from the little we do know, it's clear that the power Q is offering is... immense. I'm concerned about Riker's ability to handle that level of responsibility."

"He is a Starfleet commander," Nakamura reminded Picard. "He would not have reached that position had he not displayed an excellent ability to handle high levels of power and responsibility."

"Yes, but...!" Picard was frustrated at his inability to explain, or even fully understand, his apprehension regarding the situation between Q and Riker. "Admiral, we would be asking him to give up his humanity!"

"I'm aware that the decision is a serious one," Nakamura said. "And it is beyond our rights to make it for him." The admiral paused, letting the full meaning of his last statement sink in. "I believe Mr. Riker should join in this conversation."

Picard nodded, knowing that Nakamura was entirely right. Gut feelings were all well and good, but this situation called for diplomacy; something that had been entirely too lacking, on both sides, during their first encounter with Q. And indeed, it should be Riker's decision to make.

He tapped his combadge. "Picard to Riker. Report to my ready room immediately."

The response did nothing to calm Picard's nerves. Rather than responding through the combadge, Riker simply materialized next to the captain, in the same flash of light that was the hallmark of Q's manifestations. "Yes, Captain?"

Picard restrained himself from berating Riker for the manner of his arrival; he had, after all, just followed Picard's order and come to the ready room in the fastest way he could, and there was nothing actually mocking or insubordinate about it. Looked at objectively.

Trying to be as calm as if Riker had entered through the door, Picard motioned to the screen. "I believe you are familiar with Admiral Nakamura?" At Riker's nod of confirmation, he continued. "He has called to... advise you regarding Q's offer."

Riker bristled at this; it was a sore topic between him and Picard. "Sir, with all due respect, I'm a grown man. And I believe I'm responsible enough to have this power without--"

"This is different, Will," Picard interjected. He pushed back his feelings of unease. "The Admiral thinks you should _accept_."

Riker blinked in surprise. He turned to the comlink screen. "Admiral?"

"Commander Riker," Nakamura said, "it seems that you may be our best chance of opening friendly relations with the Q. I know that this decision will affect you personally in ways that we can't even imagine, and I can't order you to accept. However, if you do, we would like to offer you the position of Federation Special Liason with the Q Continuum."

Riker looked stunned at this; whatever he'd been expecting, this wasn't it. "I... I would be honored, sir. If it's all right, I need some time to think about this, and to find out more about the conditions of this membership. I'll get back to you with my decision as soon as I've made it."

"Of course," Nakamura said, nodding. "I will await your reply. Nakamura out." The subspace communication closed.

-----------------------

The melancholy notes of "Night Bird" drifted across the room, although they were halting and uncertain. Riker had hoped to clear his thoughts by playing the trombone in his quarters, but he couldn't keep his mind on the music.

Would it still be the same for him when-- _if_ he became fully Q? Or would the ability to simply create any desired sound make playing an instrument an unnecessary inconvenience? For that matter, would he still even care about human interests and hobbies? Would he still recognize himself?

It was a frightening prospect, becoming a god. Riker knew about the encounters some Starfleet crews had had with similar entities, from relatively minor energy beings to forces capable of making entire quadrants bend to their will-- even Worf, the Klingon tactical officer, was a reminder of how the Organians had ordered the Federation and the Klingons to make peace a hundred years ago. Federation science, for all its triumphs and miracles, still had no idea of where to start explaining powers like those. Even Riker, while he now had some of those powers at his disposal, had no idea of how they really worked-- yet. The Q apparently planned to change that.

The idea of being one of those mysterious forces, of understanding the mysteries that transcended science, was fascinating. It would be alien, certainly-- alien in a way the Klingons and Vulcans and Betazoids didn't even come close to-- but it would be a grand adventure. And wasn't adventure what Riker had joined Starfleet for?

...Starfleet. That was the other thing.

Diplomatic titles and honors were all well and good, but Riker didn't want to give up his Starfleet rank and career. They meant too much to him; he'd spent the better part of his life working to get where he was. He'd finally made it to the legendary Enterprise, and throwing that away after only a few months-- even to trade it for cosmic power-- seemed like a disappointing waste. He hoped to be the captain of the Enterprise one day, and even though as a Q he could probably create his own ship that was just as good if not better, it just wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't mean the same.

Still, he couldn't just refuse and walk away. Q was right; the offer was too tempting. He'd probably spend the rest of his life wondering about the road not taken. And what if refusal would offend the Q? Wasn't it hypocritical to turn down a chance to make contact with a new alien species and discover secrets of the universe just so he could stay in Starfleet? After all, they were supposed to be the same thing...

...That was it!

Riker put down his trombone, grinning. He knew exactly how he would resolve this.


	2. Chapter 2

When he left his quarters, Riker found himself not in the hallway, but on the nameless planet with the rocky surface and the green sky. He'd half expected as much. At least this time, he was alone; Q wasn't dragging any of his crewmates into this. The games were over.

"Ah, you return." Q greeted Riker from the campaign tent, offering him a seat at the table; Riker sat, although he felt more like pacing around. Now that this was a diplomatic operation, he had to be courteous. "The Continuum is infinite, but our patience is not. I trust you've made up your mind?"

"Almost," Riker said. "I'll accept your offer, I'll join your Continuum--" at this he was surprised to notice Q's face brightening, with an expression that looked like relief. Had this really meant that much to the entity? "--on one condition."

"We shall see," Q said warily. "What condition do you propose?"

"That I be allowed to keep my post as the first officer on the _Enterprise_."

Q was taken aback. "When you are one of us, you will be infinitely beyond those primitive beings and their mechanical toys. Why would you want to sit around in your chair on that tiny little ship when you could explore the entire galaxy with just a thought?"

"It's something I've worked hard for," Riker said firmly. "It's a part of what makes me who I am. And if you're trying to understand the human drive to explore and better ourselves, you can hardly do better than having a man in Starfleet."

Q considered this, frowning, for a moment. "Very well," he said finally. "This particular diversion of yours will hardly last for more than a linear century or two. A small concession to make. And indeed, it promises to be quite... interesting." He looked intently at Riker. "Then you are ready?"

Riker took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "I'm ready."

------------------

In her bed in her mother's home on Betazed, Deanna Troi suddenly jerked awake, eyes wide. _"Will!"_

Hearing her daughter's cry, and sensing her distress, Lwaxana was by her side in moments. "What is it, Little One?"

"Ever since Will and I became _Imzadi_," Deanna said, holding her mother's hand, "I've always been able to sense him-- no matter how far apart we were. But now I... can't."

"Maybe something's blocking him?" Lwaxana suggested hopefully. "I mean, you don't know he's..."

"No, Mother, it isn't like that." Deanna shook her head. "It was as if his mind suddenly became stronger, blindingly bright... then it went beyond my ability to sense at all."

Lwaxana ran a hand through her daughter's hair. "Well... perhaps it's all for the best. There's something I've been meaning to tell you about. A friend of your father..."

------------------

The power, at least, Riker had expected. He knew that Q had previously only given him a limited set of powers, as a test to see how he would handle them. So when the full influx of infinite power hit him, he was, if not _prepared_ exactly, at least not caught off guard.

The mental effects, while more disorienting, also matched his expectations. His mind seemed to expand immensely, becoming capable of comprehending things he'd never even dimly grasped, leaving his previous self occupying only a tiny corner of his potential.

His surroundings had also changed. Even with his new mental capacity, Riker found it impossible to discern what his hundreds of new senses were telling him, at least for the moment. He was still too stunned from changing into a different being, of an entirely different level of existence.

As Riker tried to get his bearings, he became aware of something he could understand. It was not exactly a voice, but it was some form of communication, and it was actively making itself heard and understood. Deciphering it required no effort on Riker's part, and it gave him something relatively familiar and solid to fix himself on.

"Well, you actually did it." The communication conveyed not only straightforward data, but also undertones of emotion; in this case, something like grudging respect mixed with surprise. "I'll admit, I was half expecting you to screw this up somehow."

A response, this one unmistakably Q. Even though it wasn't his voice, it carried his identifying mark, the flavor of his personality. "Well, with the stakes being what they were, I could hardly afford to lose, could I? I'm quite capable of doing what is required, when it suits me."

Dry, sardonic. "The fact that his commanders practically _ordered_ him to comply may also have had something to do with it."

Another being spoke; Riker began to sense various presences around him, separate yet part of a greater whole. "Yes, that was remarkably convenient for you, Q. Did you by any chance have any part in that--"

"He didn't," another presence said. "We were watching him closely through all of this, to make sure he didn't try anything funny."

"Your faith in me is flattering," Q said dully.

"That's what you get when you're on probation," the second being said. "Which is lifted now, by the way. But it would be good for you to be more careful from now on."

Riker privately smiled to himself at the thought of Q being on probation, remembering what he knew of the Farpoint incident. As if reading his mind, though, Q gave him a nudge and communicated privately to him in a sort of whisper._ "You're supposed to be the focus of attention here. Say something."_

_"To take the focus off you and your probation, you mean?"_ Riker replied.

_"Don't you start on that too. It's ancient history. Come on, you agreed to come here; don't get stage fright now."_

Deciding that he'd have to ask someone else about this "ancient history" later, Riker focused his attention on the assemblage of beings around him. His diplomatic training was somewhat lacking, and he doubted that it would have covered a situation like this in any case, so he went with the basics. "Greetings! I am William T. Riker, a special liason to your people from the United Federation of Planets. I would first like to thank you for extending this invitation--"

One of the beings cut him off. "Q, you said he wasn't going to be stuffy!"

"He isn't!" Q replied. "Just have a little patience. He's been hanging around that bald captain of his too long."


	3. Chapter 3

Seven hours. Seven hours and still no sign of Riker.

Picard looked uneasily around his ready room for what seemed like the hundredth time, his gaze settling on the thin lighted crescent of Quadra Sigma III outside the window. According to Dr. Crusher's latest report, the search teams had managed to locate and rescue another twenty or so survivors. Twenty, plus the previous dozen, out of five hundred and four-- not a very encouraging number at all.

But Picard couldn't bring himself to worry too much about human mortality, not right now. He was too busy worrying about the opposite.

Q had been so smug in his certainty that Riker would accept his "gift." He'd mocked Picard for even suggesting that Riker might have the will to refuse. And despite Admiral Nakamura's reasonable points, Picard couldn't shake an irrational feeling of disgust and humiliation at allowing Riker to go with Q. It felt like... giving in.

He knew it was foolish of him to think that way; as the Admiral had pointed out, this was a diplomatic opportunity, and giving in was part of the essence of diplomacy. It would be pointless to insist on having things entirely his way, especially when dealing with an entity whose powers evidently surpassed anything at Picard's disposal. But this... this somehow felt like a personal failure on Picard's part.

He worried about the effects on Riker, too. One of the data files Picard had been reading was a log excerpt from Starfleet's historical files-- Kirk's experience at the edge of the galaxy. How he eventually had to kill Gary Mitchell, his friend, because he gained great power and madness to go with it. The next time Picard saw Riker, it might no longer be the Riker he knew.

And that was if he _did_ see Riker again. His long absence led Picard to strongly suspect that he had accepted Q's offer; the conversation with the Admiral beforehand made it almost a certainty. True, he had promised to inform Picard of his decision, but what if such things no longer mattered to him? What if Q and his ilk wouldn't let him?

With a sinking feeling of despair, Picard realized that the man who had been his first officer was probably far beyond space, time and humanity by now.

-----------------------

"Wait a minute. You're Q? I thought Q was over there."

The entity with whom Riker was currently conversing seemed to ripple and shimmer, sending an impression of amusement. "He is. I said I was Q, not Q. There's a difference."

Not for the first time that night, Riker felt like he was stuck in a very strange dream. Maybe the rhythmic, modulated force waves that seemed to pass for music here were turned up too high, or maybe he'd had too many shots of protomatter. Or maybe there was nothing wrong with his mind, and the Q really were that strange. "Are you _all_ named Q?"

More amusement, with perhaps a lingering air of condescension. "Of course. We're all Q, after all."

"Doesn't it get confusing?"

"I would think it would be more confusing to live with people who all have different names. How do you manage to remember them all? And with your tiny mortal minds!"

"Well, often we don't," Riker admitted. "I'm no good with names, myself."

"It must be a common problem," the Q said. Riker was beginning to get the impression that this one was female, whatever that meant for a Q.

"It is," Riker said. "Still, I'm rather attached to my name. Now that I'm a member here, am I going to have to change it?"

"When you're officially representing us, you must refer to yourself as Q, of course. Outside that, though, you can call yourself the Grand Overlord of Andromeda for all the Continuum cares." She paused. "Which you should consider, by the way. It has a nice ring to it."

"Thank you," Riker said wryly, "but I think I'll stick with 'Commander William T. Riker' for now. Or 'William Q. Riker' for official Continuum business."

"Speaking of official business," she said, "I'd be interested to know what you intend to say about us in your report to your Federation. How will you describe us in words they can understand?"

"I'll tell them that you're omni-dimensional, non-corporeal, and all those other fancy terms... and that you know how to throw a damn fine party." Riker was sure now that he was somehow intoxicated; perhaps the Q had done something to cure him of his 'stuffiness.'

"I couldn't have put it better myself," the female Q said.

"That reminds me, though," Riker said, "I need to get back to my ship. Everyone's probably wondering where I've run off to."

"You know, you could stay here for a hundred or so of your years, then step back to the moment you left. No one would know the difference."

"I would." Riker was saved from having to stifle a yawn by the fact that he didn't have a body anyway. "All of this is... a lot to get used to all at once. I need to go back to someplace familiar before I get completely lost." He mustered up a bit more good humor. "Besides, the longer I wait, the more I'll have to report when I do go back. And writing up a hundred years' worth of reports at once doesn't appeal to me."

"Oh, all right. Just be sure to come back soon."

"How soon?" Riker asked. He hoped the Continuum would allow him enough time to put in his regular duty shifts, at least; then again, it was true that he could just make time...

"When it feels like soon. Time is subjective for us. You've got a lot to learn, you know-- and we're going to have to find a way to teach you."

Something about that last remark made Riker nervous, but he tried to ignore the feeling for now. "I was under the impression that the Q wished to learn something from me."

"Yes, that's another thing we'll have to figure out. Personally I can't imagine what mortals might have for us to learn from, but those with more philosophical leanings-- especially Q, Q and Q-- think there's something humans have that we need, and you're the person to go to for it. And you made it through ascension without losing your mind, which is more than I was expecting, so maybe there's something to that." She paused. "Shall I give you a lift back to your ship? Unless you'd like to work out how to shift between planes of existence, locate a moving point in space with no referents, and focus your being into a finite physical shell on your own..."

Riker definitely didn't feel up to doing all that. "Thanks. You're right, a lift back--"


	4. Chapter 4

Hi again! Thanks for all the reviews and comments. : ) I've gone back and added/changed some stuff in the previous chapters, especially 1 and 3, so take a look.

--

-----------------

------------------------

Before he could finish his communication, Riker found himself swept across dimensions, compressed into a space that seemed much too small, reduced to a tiny fraction of his potential. He was somehow detatched from most of his senses. He was trapped in a box within a box. He was--

He was in his body again. And back on the bridge of the _Enterprise_.

Data spun around at the flash of light, looking at Riker. If he was capable of feeling surprise, he didn't show it. "Ah, Commander Riker. Captain Picard has asked to see you in the ready room."

Riker staggered, leaning against the back wall of the bridge. It took him a moment to find his voice. "Thank you, Mr. Data."

By now, Riker noticed, everyone on the bridge was staring at him. They weren't saying anything, just staring as if he was some kind of stellar anomaly. Was it his momentary awkwardness, or his abrupt appearance? Or was it just the fact that they knew he was a Q now?

Whatever it was, Riker didn't like it. After a few experimental steps to make sure he remembered how to move his legs, he left the bridge, letting the others think what they liked.

------------------------

"Sir? You wanted to see me?"

At the sound of the door and Riker's voice, Picard tiredly stood up from his chair. "Will! So you decided to return to--" He trailed off when he saw Riker, and choked as if trying to hold back something. A laugh? A shout?

"Is something the matter?" Riker asked irritably. This was too close to the reception he'd gotten on the bridge.

"Will, your head..."

"What? What's wrong with my--" Riker turned to look at his reflection in one of the room's polished windows, and groaned.

Most of his hair was gone. What was left was an exact duplicate of Picard's hair, right down to the color. That at least explained the looks he'd gotten. For a moment, Riker glared at the window, wondering how long it would take his hair to grow back; then he remembered that it was up to him, and restored his hair to its usual state.

Picard frowned at this. "I suppose this means I needn't bother hoping that you had enough sense to refuse Q's offer."

Riker sat down on the seat facing Picard's desk, uncomfortably aware of the critical look Picard was giving him. "Sorry about... appearing like that, sir. I believe it was one of the Q's idea of a practical joke."

"No doubt. But that's hardly my main concern right now." Picard looked Riker in the eyes. _"Have you joined the Q Continuum?"_

It felt almost like being accused of some terrible crime. Riker spoke quietly. "Yes, sir."

"I see," Picard said grimly.

"But," Riker added, "they agreed to let me stay in Starfleet. In fact, I wouldn't have joined them if they hadn't."

Picard's face brightened considerably, and he let out a sigh of relief. "That's good to hear, Number One. I'd hate to lose you as my first officer." He frowned. "But there's something that concerns me. You still have the powers Q gave you?"

"Much more than that, actually," Riker said. "What I had before, that's just from when I was being tested. Now that I've actually become one of them, I can--" He shook his head. "I don't even know where to begin. I feel like I could do anything, be anything."

"And that's exactly what worries me," Picard said. "That sort of power is a dangerous thing to have in anyone's hands. Are you certain that you can resist the temptation to use it?"

That was a loaded question. Riker didn't like what it was implying. "Right now," he said with forced humor, "the only thing I'm certain of is that I need a good, long sleep. This whole experience has been one hell of a roller coaster ride for my mind. With your permission..."

Picard's voice softened. "Granted, Number One," he said. "You're right, it is late. We'll discuss this tomorrow. Dismissed."

Riker smiled wearily. "Thank you, sir. Good night."

He left the room, making sure the turbolift doors had shut behind him before teleporting himself to his quarters.


	5. Chapter 5

Getting to sleep, Riker found, was a lot harder than it sounded.

His mind would not shut down. The confusing memories of his experience in the Continuum (if that was even what it was) seemed to tumble around in his head, with first one and then another coming to the forefront as he involuntarily tried to make sense of its paradoxical, ever-changing nature. It had all seemed so much simpler when he was there, and it had been confusing even then. It was tempting to simply go back and immerse himself in all that again, but he knew that he didn't need even more cognitive overload.

Not that this dimension didn't have more than enough of that. When Riker closed his eyes, it only allowed his other senses to occupy his attention: he could sense the warp bubble surrounding the ship, its speed through subspace and normal space, the faint gravity of distant stars, the energy in the ship's systems... it was fascinating and awe-inspiring, but Riker really wasn't in the best state of mind to appreciate it at the moment.

Frustrated, he cast around for something calming to focus his senses on, and found it: the rainbow-colored streaks produced by interstellar particles sliding past the ship's navigational deflector bubble. Watching and counting them was enough to occupy the more-than-human part of his mind, the part that refused to sleep, leaving his human side to drift off...

------------------------

It's probably nothing, Deanna Troi told herself over and over as she waited for the subspace transmission to go through. There's no reason to be so nervous.

It was the sort of thing she'd tell a patient experiencing something like this, and it sometimes worked, but she couldn't quite convince herself. She sat anxiously in front of her mother's phone unit, with Lwaxana hovering nearby.

Finally the Federation logo on the screen was replaced with Picard's face. "Enterprise, Captain Picard," he said, then paused. "Counselor Troi? Is something the matter?"

Deanna tried to hide her embarrassment. "Well, this may sound silly, but I was... just worried about Will-- Commander Riker. I wanted to make sure he's all right."

Picard's face took on a strange expression; Deanna, accustomed to reading emotions directly, couldn't interpret it. "That," Picard said, "is something I am wondering about as well."

Deanna's breath caught in her throat. So it wasn't nothing, after all. "What's wrong?" she asked. "What's happened to him?"

"I believe it would be best for Mr. Riker to explain personally," Picard said gravely. "I'll put you through to him."

Deanna allowed herself a small amount of relief. So Will was alive, and on the _Enterprise_. That eliminated two of her most serious concerns.

After a moment, the screen changed to show Will in his quarters. When he saw who was calling him, his eyes widened; even Deanna could tell that he was shocked. _"Deanna!!"_

And then, in a flash of white light which Deanna remembered from somewhere but couldn't quite place, he vanished. The screen showed an unoccupied room.

"Will?" Deanna looked intently into the screen, hoping for some clue as to what had just happened.

Suddenly, she sensed... something. Immense power, the presence of a mind too far beyond hers to read, the feeling of something vast and cosmic nearby. In the same instant, there was a flash of light behind her, and Lwaxana gasped and jumped back.

When the light cleared, Will Riker was standing in the Trois' living room. And Deanna realized that the only thing she could sense from him was that feeling of power.


	6. Chapter 6

Riker blinked, a bit surprised at the sudden change of scene. He'd seen Deanna's face on the screen, realized that he'd forgotten about her amid all the recent events, and-- gone to her. He hadn't even realized what he was doing until he'd already done it.

"Will?" Deanna whispered, her voice shaking with wonder and fear. "Is that you? What happened to you?"

Lwaxana put a hand on Deanna's shoulder, as if to pull her back. "This..._ thing _can't be William Riker," she said. "He was human. I could read his thoughts as plain as day."

Riker felt a bit put off at Lwaxana's comment, but then that was nothing new. "Deanna," he said gently, "it's me. There's a lot to explain. I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner..."

Lwaxana advanced slowly, threateningly. "I don't know who or what you are," she said, her steely voice masking all but the faintest of quavers, "but you are not who you are pretending to be. Leave my daughter alone."

"Mother, wait," Deanna said. "It might really be him. This feeling-- it's the same as what I felt from him last night."

"I don't understand," Riker said, backing off from Lwaxana. "Do you sense something different about me?"

"I don't sense anything from you, really. Just overwhelming power. It's like..." Deanna's eyes widened as she realized where she remembered that flash of light from. "Like when we met Q, when we first joined the _Enterprise_. That same feeling of something too far beyond me."

Riker's face fell. _Of course_, he thought. _She couldn't read Q, so... _"Yes," he said slowly. "That's because--"

"Who or what is Q?" Lwaxana abruptly demanded. "Some sort of Starfleet code name?"

"Mother, I'll explain later..." Deanna began.

"This person, or whatever he is, just appeared uninvited in my house," Lwaxana said. "I think I deserve an explanation now."

Deanna sighed. "Q is a powerful alien being who intercepted the _Enterprise _during our first mission," she said. "He claimed to be placing all of humanity on trial, and he... monitored and interfered with the mission."

"A trial?" Lwaxana asked, curious. "Why, what did the humans do?"

"It's not like that," Riker said. He'd forgotten how hard it was to get a word in edgewise in a conversation with Lwaxana. "He didn't say so at the time, but a few days ago he came back and made some things clearer. The trial was actually to see if humans, and us in particular, were worthy to join his people-- the Q Continuum."

"And?" Deanna asked slowly, as if she suspected what was coming next.

"And somehow, they decided that I was exactly what they were looking for. Q made me the offer, and Starfleet Diplomatic called to advise me, and..." Riker prepared himself for what would come next. "I'm a Q now, Deanna."

The room was silent for a moment.

"What does that mean?" Deanna asked. "His people-- you mean there's more beings like him?"

"Yes, I met them... some of them, anyway... last night. I still don't understand much about them. They exist on another level of reality, and they're energy and thought and dimensions and--" Riker shook his head. "I can't describe it. I was _there_ and I can hardly imagine it. What I can tell you is that they don't seem hostile, at least not that I can tell. If anything, they're curious. About us, about me. They seem to think there's something important that only I can teach them."

"You're a diplomat," Lwaxana said flatly, apparently nonplussed by indescribable levels of reality. "I know all about how that can be. You'll be travelling around wherever they send you, representing one side or another, sitting through endless conferences on things that won't make any difference either way." She tsked. "It must be so hard when you can't even tell what the other delegates are thinking."

"The Admiral said I'd be a special liasion," Riker said. "I don't know what the diplomatic responsibilities of that are, exactly--"

"Take my word for it," Lwaxana said. "It's always the same, and I doubt it's any different in a dimension of energy or whatever they call it. Still, I am proud for you. You must have made quite an impression on them in this... Farpoint thing."

"It didn't exactly seem like it at the time," Riker said wryly, settling down in one of the Trois' many overly-plush living chairs. Lwaxana's casual summary of his responsibilities helped ease his tension; maybe this wouldn't be as big an issue as he'd feared. There was still the small matter of his infinite powers, but he wasn't sure how to bring that up.

"There's more to it than that." Deanna looked intently at Riker. "It's done something to your mind..."

Riker was tired of hearing that; the other crewmembers had been suspecting him of being under mind control just because he was starting to listen to Q. "What do you mean? I still care for you. I haven't done anything threatening. I'm still the same Will Riker as always."

"Not like that," Deanna said. "I mean how I can't sense your mind. Not like before." She looked at the empty room still showing on the phone screen. "I contacted the _Enterprise _because I was worried about you. I felt our bond break."

Riker froze. He hadn't thought about that, either. Hadn't realized. "Oh, no," he said softly. "Deanna, I'm sorry..." He reached over to touch her hand.

For an instant, an instant that sent a pang of horror through Riker, she flinched away. Then, realizing that his touch felt the same as ever, she gingerly took his hand.

Deanna's face suddenly took on a faraway expression, and she and Lwaxana turned to face each other. Riker realized that they were having a telepathic conversation, and half wished he could hear what they were saying. Some perverse corner of his mind hinted that perhaps he _could..._

Riker quickly pushed that thought aside. No, he resolved, he was not going to intrude on the Trois' mental privacy. He was in control of himself and his powers.

Even though, that same voice whispered, he'd already used them to intrude into the house...

Riker was distracted from worrying about such matters, though, when Deanna turned to face him, looking serious. "Will, I don't want to say this, but maybe this is how things are meant to be."

Riker frowned, not liking how that sounded. "What do you mean?"

"There's something else I found out last night. Something I've been wondering how to tell you." Deanna hesitated. "I'm getting married."


	7. Chapter 7

_Hi again all! Thanks for all the reviews and comments, they're greatly appreciated!_

_Bit of a change today. I was doing some research, and I discovered that the very next episode after "Hide and Q" is "Haven", in which Lwaxana sets Deanna up to marry Wyatt Miller. I've made some changes to the Lwaxana/Deanna scenes to reflect that, so it doesn't seem to come completely out of the blue (like it did in the episode)..._

_Sorry, Will, I didn't mean to be this cruel, but the canon made me do it!_

---------------

---------------------------

----------------------------------------

Riker nearly choked. "What?! You 'found out' that you're getting married? Last night?"

"Yes, to a perfectly charming young man named Wyatt Miller," Lwaxana said. "Now, don't look so shocked. You've certainly had more than enough opportunity to marry her, but you always get sidetracked with your work and this W thing--"

"Q," Riker corrected her.

"--W, Q, whatever, and a girl on every planet you've visited, with never a thought for my poor Little One's feelings. Do you know, she woke up crying last night, because of you? So I decided it was high time to find her a good, dependable man who won't leave her hanging. Wyatt's parents were good friends of my dear husband, and I'm sure he'll be a fine man for my Deanna."

Feeling as if the breath had just been crushed out of him, Riker sank down in the chair, staring at Lwaxana. Here he was, with all this cosmic power at his fingertips, and his life was falling apart and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Deanna?" he said tentatively, looking to her. Maybe this was just Lwaxana being insane. Maybe...

"I'm sorry, Will," she said, turning away from him. "I have to."

Without another word, or even a coherent thought, Riker left. He just knew that he had to get away. Far, far away. From everything.

------------------------

In an empty sector of space between the galactic spiral arms, Riker flashed into being. Anger, betrayal, shock, and most of all, frustration swirled through his mind, rapidly reaching boiling point. He felt like a ball of atom-smashing fire, torn apart by internal forces, ready to explode. With an incoherent shout, he released the barrier of will that prevented his thoughts from becoming reality, and burst into an explosion that could have shattered worlds.

It hurt, but not enough.

Astronomers several sectors away were mystified to discover a large, bright nova in a region thought to be devoid of stars. Before it could be properly investigated, however, the phenomenon faded away.

------------------------

"I see you've decided to rejoin us, Number One," Picard said frostily. "In future, perhaps you'd like to inform us mere mortals of any unscheduled trips you may feel the need to take?"

Once again, Riker was in Picard's ready room, on the receiving end of the captain's cold anger. This was becoming all too frequent lately, and it wasn't helping to improve a day that had already started off on an unpleasant note. He felt drained, physically and emotionally. "My apologies, sir," he said, the tense irritation in his voice making him sound less sincere than he was. "There was a... personal matter."

Picard nodded gravely. "Involving the Q, no doubt."

"Actually, no, sir."

"Really?" Picard leaned forward, looking sharply at Riker. "Explain."

"Well, sir," Riker said uncomfortably, "it's not exactly my place to tell you. It's about Counselor Troi-- and no, it doesn't have to do with me becoming a Q. She... well, I think she should be the one to explain. If it's all right, I'd rather not dwell on the subject."

Picard's expression was stern. "I'll await Counselor Troi's report when she returns," he said after a long moment. "As for you, I recommend that you report to your post. You're an hour and forty minutes late for your shift."

"Yes, sir," Riker said. He turned and shuffled out to the bridge.

-----------------------------

_Captain's Log, Stardate: 41980.7_

_Having completed our mission on Quadra Sigma III, we are currently en route to retrieve Counselor Troi before beginning our next assignment. There has been a minor change of plans; instead of having Counselor Troi rejoin us at Starbase G-6, we are to rendezvous with her and her family at the planet Haven. Commander Riker has hinted that the Troi family is undergoing some sort of crisis, but I will have to wait to hear more details from Counselor Troi herself..._

Picard looked up from the padd he was writing the log in, glancing over to Riker, who was likewise busy writing; presumably his report for Admiral Nakamura. Satisfied that Riker's attention was occupied for the time being, Picard turned back to his own work.

_...On another note, my concerns about Mr. Riker's association with Q and his unseen fellow beings continue unabated. Twice already he has left the Enterprise for several hours at a time, without notifying myself or the other crewmembers. I fear that the power of Q is eroding his respect for regulations and his fellow officers, and that it may be only a matter of time before he uses his powers for something more drastic._

Picard quickly closed and filed the log entry, returning the padd to the compartment in his chair's armrest. He turned to Riker, trying to present his usual friendly curiosity toward his first officer. "I'll be interested to read that report when it's ready, Number One."

"Not much to report so far, I'm afraid," Riker said, looking at his padd screen. "To tell the truth, the only thing that's taking a lot of time is coming up with words to describe what I did find out. I've been searching the archives for reports of similar situations to refer to, but there really isn't much that compares."

"Have you read James Kirk's report of Gary Mitchell's experience at the edge of the galaxy?" Picard asked in a deliberately innocent voice. "There are some remarkable similarities."

Riker frowned, and his cheeks reddened slightly. "Yes, I've read it," he said curtly. "I've studied the logs of all Kirk's missions. And personally, I don't see the correlation."

"Captain Picard, sir?" Wesley piped up from his console. "Who's Gary Mitchell?"

"One of Kirk's crewmen who died in the line of duty," Picard said, not wanting to involve Wesley in this.

Wesley didn't get the hint. "I don't understand. What does that have to do with Commander Riker?"

"Nothing," Riker said flatly.

Wesley turned back to his console. "Aye aye, sir."


	8. Chapter 8

The drained feeling became more and more noticeable as the day wore on. Not wanting to draw attention to himself with yet another problem, Riker stayed at his post till the end of his shift, by which point he felt almost ready to collapse. There was an ache inside him, not physical but distinctly real nonetheless.

And besides, Riker realized, he didn't know how much the Q might have changed him physically. His mind, and the nature of his existence, had been drastically transformed, but what about his body? On the one hand, it seemed doubtful that it would change to reflect his status, since he could exist without it. On the other hand, he knew he'd returned last night with at least one noticeable physical change...

Yes, it would probably be best to take a visit to Sickbay.

------------------------

"As far as I can tell," Dr. Crusher said as she waved a medical scanner over Riker, "you're perfectly human. Everything's where it should be, no anomalous energy readings or... wait, what's this?"

"Hm?" Riker looked at the readout screens next to the biobed he was sitting on, but he couldn't make sense of the overlaid graphs and constantly changing numbers.

"This is odd," Crusher said. "Your brain functions-- I'd expect them to be more active than before, but the conscious and cognitive functions just... aren't there."

"Maybe they're somewhere else," Riker said. "There's a lot about this that I don't understand yet, but I know that the Q aren't confined to physical forms or the dimensions we know. I mean, I'm in this body-- but at the same time, it isn't really _me._" He shrugged. "If that makes any sense."

Crusher put the scanner down. "That's very possible. Some sort of extradimensional force or energy our scanners can't detect. I wish I had the equipment to run a quantum-level scan..."

"So you can't tell what's causing this aching?"

She shook her head. "Your human body seems fine, and I don't know enough about how Q are _supposed_ to work to even begin to diagnose what's wrong with that side of you. If you can, I'd say your best bet would be to contact them and ask them about it."

"You're right," Riker said, grunting as he stood up from the biobed. "It's probably just stress, anyway."

"It could very well be," Crusher said. "I can't imagine what it's like going through this... transformation, but it must be a lot to adjust to in a short period of time. Maybe you should see Counselor Troi when she gets back."

Riker scowled. "I don't think that would help," he said darkly.

"Is everything all right?" Crusher asked.

"It'll be fine," Riker said, sighing. "Thanks. See you later." He walked out the door before Dr. Crusher could ask any more questions about things he didn't want to be reminded of.

As soon as the sickbay door hissed shut behind him, Riker heard a voice from behind his shoulder. It was not the voice of someone he wanted to deal with right now. "Stress? I suppose you could say that..."

"Q?" Riker spun around to face his unexpected company. "What is it? Do you know why I'm feeling like this?"

"That little fireworks display of yours earlier would be my guess."

"Fireworks?..." For a moment Riker wondered what Q could mean, then his face went white with horror as he realized. "You mean after I left Deanna... that was _real?!_"

"Yep," Q said, smirking. "Quite impressive, really. I hadn't expected you to be able to channel that much power so soon. No wonder you're burnt out."

"Oh, God... you mean I caused a nova?"

"Please, just call me Q," Q said with false modesty. "And to be precise, you manifested yourself as an unstable star and went nova. But yes, you're roughly correct."

Riker couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Q, I could have destroyed the Betazed system!"

"But you didn't," Q pointed out. "The Continuum wouldn't hand cosmic power to someone who'd just go off and destroy an inhabited system at the first bit of romantic turmoil. Give us _some_ credit."

"I didn't know what I was doing," Riker said, in shock. "I thought it was just feeling strong emotions..."

Q nodded. "Indeed. Quite an effective way of letting off steam." He grinned. "Not to mention gamma rays, radiocobalt isotopes, neutron--"

"I can't believe you're treating this as a joke!"

"You should know by now that I take my jokes wherever I can get them," Q said. "Besides, why not? It's not like you hurt anyone. Except yourself, but I know for a fact that you meant to."

For a moment, Riker wanted to scream, _Take these powers back! I don't want them!_ But he couldn't bring himself to do that. The Federation needed him, and apparently the Continuum needed him too, and he couldn't turn back now after having only barely sampled what this new state of being had to offer. And besides, it was true that he hadn't hurt anyone. He'd had the presence of mind to get to empty space first...

What Riker found himself saying was, "Q, I need to learn how to control these powers."

"Yes, you do," Q said. "But now is hardly the time. As I said, you burnt yourself out with that stunt. You're lucky you were even able to drag yourself back here."

Burnt out. Yes, Riker realized, that was exactly what the ache inside him felt like. "How long will it take for me to... recharge?"

"Longer than you'll want to bother with, if you stay here," Q said. "What you should do is return to the Continuum. It's the source of our powers. A little rest and relaxation there, and you'll be as good as new." He raised his hand and readied his fingers.

"Not right now!" Riker interrupted. "I promised Captain Picard that I wouldn't leave the ship again without letting him know."

"Oh, Jean-Luc and his rules," Q said wearily. "Whenever there's something worth doing, people like him come along and make up a rule against it. Well, this one's easy enough to deal with." He tapped the combadge on his replica uniform. "Oh, Jean-Luc? Q here. Mr. Riker needs a vacation, so I'm taking him on one. Just so you know."

"_Q!!"_ Picard and Riker shouted at the same time.

And then Riker and Q disappeared in a flash of white light.


	9. Chapter 9

Abstraction. Ideas without need of form. Colliding, reacting infinities. An ever-changing pattern of patterns of patterns of patterns to fall into forever...

The Continuum was no easier to comprehend this time around.

Riker's mind reeled, trying to process the raw existence into terms he could handle more easily. A galaxy, with each star a fellow being; an alien city with streets and buildings pointing in all angles, with no regard to up and down or even the three familiar dimensions; an immense mind with thoughts flashing through it... Like translating a sentence into different languages, each viewpoint shed a different light on it-- and they were all true.

One of the overlapping images in particular seemed particularly suitable to Riker: an institution of learning, which his mind rendered as similar to Starfleet Academy. As he focused on it, that image came to the fore, and the other truths faded into the dimly-visible background.

Riker found himself in a dreamlike scene from his Academy days, dressed in his cadet's uniform and standing on the main green, looking around at the campus buildings that were subtly but distinctly different from the ones he remembered and were also so many other things at the same time. Q was standing next to him, wearing the uniform of a third-year cadet; looking at himself from a third-person perspective, Riker noticed that he was a freshman.

It figured. At least Q wasn't wearing an admiral's uniform in this scenario.

"Well, there, at least you've learned something," Q said. "Metaphorical perception. You could have chosen a less humdrum metaphor--" he frowned at the gray cadet uniform-- "but this one will do. Formless potential is all well and good, but it makes for a dull way to decorate a dimension."

"How do you see it?" Riker asked.

"Through at least thirty metaphors at once," Q said. "With one eye on the abstract, so to speak. You can't start believing in metaphors too much, or you'll start to think that, for instance--" he kicked at the ground, leaving no mark on the vaguely-defined green field-- "this is grass. Next thing you know, you're letting your mind conjure up all the little annoyances that go with defined existence, and blinding yourself to the best things the Continuum has to offer."

"Such as?"

"For one thing, you've created the illusion of space for yourself. Which is fine as a way of keeping things organized, but suppose you want to get to the frame of creation. If you believe too much in that space, you'll waste time trudging over there, when you could just frame shift there with a thought."

Riker tried to take all this in. "The frame of creation, is that... where you create things?"

"Very good!" Q said patronizingly. "The obvious is not completely lost on you, after all."

When in the company of Q, it was best to keep a thick skin. Riker shrugged off the jab and went on. "So why wasn't it like this the first time I was here? I was overwhelmed, but at least I could function..."

"You were staggering around like a drunken moose," Q said. "And the reason you could function at all without knowing how was that I brought you to a more limited frame. This time, I dropped you right in the thick of things. You wanted to learn, this is how to do it."

"Sink or swim, you mean?" Riker said wryly.

"Of course. I knew you'd figure it out eventually, and we do have all the time in the world, after all." Q paused. "But that doesn't mean I want to spend it standing out here, talking about things you could just as easily learn by trying them. Come on, Will, go somewhere. Do something fun. After a day like you've had, you need it."

Riker did a double-take. "Will?"

"Well, yes, now that we're Continuum brothers it hardly seems right to call you 'Commander Riker' all the time, does it?" Q said. "I could call you Bill, if you prefer. Or Q."

Riker realized that he had to be believing too much in this physical metaphor, because his imaginary head was starting to hurt. "No, Will is fine. How about I just go back to that frame I was in yesterday?"

"You can't," Q said. "It's already dissolved."

"What?"

Q sneered. "What'll you be asking me about next, arithmetic? Since you apparently haven't noticed, the Continuum is constantly shifting. Minor frames like that just come and go."

"I see," Riker said, although he wasn't at all sure he did.

"I should hope so. Believe it or not, I have things to do besides being your personal encyclopedia, so if you have any more questions, you'd best make them quick."

"Where should I go?" Riker asked, feeling completely lost. "What am I supposed to do here? Where's everyone else? You've been talking, but you haven't given me any _answers!_"

"I've given you more answers than you apparently know what to do with," Q said. "This is _your_ metaphor, so you of all people should be able to find your way around it." He turned to leave. "Now, I have things to do. If there's anything else you want to talk to me about... don't." With that, he vanished.

"Just great," Riker muttered to himself. "Now what?"

He looked around at the metaphorical landscape, which gave him a strong sense of deja vu. This really was a lot like his first day at the Academy: eager to learn, on the way to a grand destiny, but too lost and confused to know where to begin. But this time around, instead of a nosy Vulcan superintendent, he had... Q. And instead of scheduled classes, he had a feeling that lessons and tests would happen whenever Q and his cohorts felt like it.

He didn't even want to _think_ about what they'd do instead of the Kobiyashi Maru.


	10. Chapter 10

Hi again. Sorry for the long wait... writing for Qs is harder than it looks /

-----

------------

--------------------

At least the Academy setting had given Riker an idea for where to go. Just as Q had said, all it took was a thought and he was shifting into the desired frame. In this case, his mind represented it as walking through the doors of the cadet lounge in the Academy's main student building.

There were differences, of course. Back at the Academy, the view through the windows was generally of the surrounding grounds, and didn't change from one minute to the next. And the floor and ceiling had been two distinct areas with different purposes, a tradition that didn't seem to be followed here. Still, Riker felt a wave of nostalgia at the familiar atmosphere, remembering the good times he'd had with his friends at the Academy...

Then he saw the infinite energies connecting himself and all the other people in the room, and he remembered what they were, and how far he was from Earth. He shuddered and reasserted the metaphor.

"New guy!" someone called out, noticing Riker. "That was a nice explosion you did earlier. Very dramatic."

It was strange to look at the various Q in the lounge. When Riker viewed them as a crowd, they looked like generic Starfleet cadets, mostly human and male; when he focused on a particular one, though, he saw its individual form or representation of what it was truly like. This one appeared as a twisting structure of colorful cubes, connected at the corners, while still paradoxically showing the image of a cadet in the metaphor.

Unpleasantly reminded of the situation with Deanna, Riker shot a look (or rather, a non-linguistic communication of mild offense and discomfort) at the entity. "I didn't exactly do it to show off. I was just-- letting my feelings out."

"Exactly what makes it such an affecting work of art," the cubical structure said. "Mortal passions, painted on a cosmic canvas-- beautiful! I've made sure to save that moment for posterity." It paused. "Oh, I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced. I'm Q."

"I figured," Riker muttered, not exactly pleased to hear this perspective on his loss of control. He regained his composure and managed a friendly tone. "Will Riker. From the Federation. Nice to meet you."

A few other Q had gathered around them, looking at Riker with interest and curiosity. One of them, a sort of Celtic knot of waving energy tendrils, moved forward. "I was hoping you'd come by here," it said to Riker. It held up a dart and gestured to a dartboard nearby. "Care for a game?"

"Thanks, I--" Riker realized that the dart the entity was holding was actually a comet. He looked again at the dartboard, and saw that its rings were planetary orbits, and its bullseye was a sun. "--think I'll pass for now."

"Suit yourself," the energy knot said, casually tossing the comet across the room. "So you're from the Federation... say, do you know Decker?"

"Who?" Riker asked.

"You know, Will Decker. He merged with a Deltan and an old probe and..."

"Oh, that Decker!" Riker said, his memory jogged. "I've read about him, but that was before my time."

"Really? It would only have been, let's see, about eighty of your years ago..."

"Yes, and I'm thirty years old."

"Thirty!" A small part of the knot lashed loose, then retied itself in a slightly different configuration. "I knew your kind were temporary, but I didn't think they were _that_ temporary! It must have been exhausting, aging that fast."

"Once you get started, the rest is pretty much automatic," Riker said dryly. "How old are you, then?"

The knot emitted a communication of disdain. "It doesn't work like that for us," it said. It turned to address the cubical structure, who was currently occupied with drinking something that didn't seem quite there. "Q, the new guy needs to hear The Talk."

"You do it," the other Q said, not looking up. "I did it last time."

"That was four ages ago!"

"So? Who's counting?"

The knot turned back to Riker. "It's a long story," it said. "Ask around in the frame of knowledge if you want to hear it. Or just wait, and you'll find out eventually."

That sounded ominous. "When eventually?"

The knot sent out a burst of exasperation. "_Will _you stop thinking like you're still bound by objective dimensions?! Time for us is flexible. Subjective. It takes as long as you think it does."

"There's a human saying," Riker said. "You're only as old as you feel."

"Exactly! And that sort of thinking is why we decided that humans had the potential we were looking for." The knot moved into the seat next to the structure of cubes, and motioned to Riker to take a seat across from them. "My turn to ask some questions now. Tell us a little about yourself..."

-----------------------

It was 0430 hours, ship's time, when Riker was finally able to extricate himself from the conversation and ask to be sent back to the _Enterprise._ Over the course of several subjective hours, he had learned that the knot-Q worked with getting temporal warps to link to disconnected realities, the cube-Q posed as a revolutionary artist and inspired new styles of expression in various societies, and they both preferred to hang around the gathering frame and tell jokes and tall tales over a game of six-dimensional pool and a couple of neutrino shakes.

For their part, they listened with real interest to Riker's stories from his own life, despite their general disdain for finite beings; there was something distinctly surreal about sharing a laugh with a couple of godlike cosmic beings over his initial misunderstandings of some of the local customs when he was stationed on Betazed. He wondered if he'd ever feel comfortable enough around them to talk about the mutiny on the _Pegasus._ Or about his parents...

As Riker closed his eyes and started to count the particles striking the deflector shield, he idly wondered what his father would have to say about all this.


	11. Chapter 11

The next day, at least, proceeded quietly. As soon as Riker arrived on the bridge, Picard of course demanded a reason for his most recent disappearance, but he seemed satisfied by Riker's explanation that Q had abducted him because his vital energies were running low. The rest of the crew seemed eager to avoid the Q issue, although Riker thought he caught Wesley looking at him with awe and curiosity a few times.

And so it went, a routine but slightly tense watch, until near the end of the day...

There was a bleep from Worf's console, and the Klingon quickly responded. "Sir! We are receiving a priority three subspace transmission from Admiral Nakamura."

"I'll take it in the ready room," Riker said. Remembering the current state of things, he hastily caught himself and turned to Picard. "With your permission, sir."

"Mr. Worf," Picard said, "is this transmission coded for Mr. Riker's eyes only?"

Worf scanned the information on his console. "No, sir."

Picard stood up. "Very well. The ready room, then, Number One. Let's hear what the Admiral has to say."

Trying to hide his annoyance, Riker followed Picard off the bridge.

-------------------------

"Mr. Riker," Admiral Nakamura said. "Good to see you. What news do you have to report on the Q situation?"

"I took your advice, sir," Riker said. "I accepted their offer. I'm now a member of the Continuum."

"And yet you're still on the _Enterprise_?"

"The Q don't live in time or space as we know it," Riker explained. "They're on another plane of existence entirely, which I can visit at any time. So they agreed that I could keep my position on this ship."

"Good work," Nakamura said. "This kind of link between them and Starfleet is a major benefit to diplomacy on our end, as I'm sure you're aware. Now, this... plane of existence. Have you been there?"

"Yes, sir. Twice now."

"And you've met some of the Q-- experienced a bit of their society?"

Riker nodded. "Somewhat."

"What can you tell us?"

Not sure how to describe the Q, Riker tried to stall. "Well, I haven't had a chance to learn very much yet. I'm still gathering enough information for my report..."

"I don't need your full report yet. Just your first impressions."

Riker considered his words carefully, trying not to sound megalomaniacal or deluded. After all, his sense of limitless power might not be the truth; there might be all sorts of limits he didn't know about. And he'd run out of power yesterday... so anything that might sound like boasting of godhood definitely wasn't the way to go. Especially with Picard listening in.

"They're a very... unusual people," Riker began. "I haven't been able to find out as much as I'd like. They certainly don't seem to like giving straight answers. I did get the feeling that they don't take themselves very seriously, on the whole."

"I see," Nakamura said. "What have you found out about their leadership, their politics?"

"That's been one of the hardest things to find out," Riker admitted. "I don't know if that concept even applies. While I think they're individuals-- I'm pretty sure _I _am-- they also seem to be connected on some deeper level." Something Q had told him when he asked a similar question sprang to his mind: _in the Continuum, the terms me and we are much the same._ Riker filed that away as one more thing he'd have to ask about when he got the chance.

"Then perhaps Federation membership?..."

Riker had to stifle a laugh. "I doubt it, sir."

"Why not?" Nakamura asked. "Do you think they pose a threat?"

"No, sir," Riker said. "Q claimed to be threatening all of humanity when we met him at Farpoint, but he was actually testing us for other reasons. To be honest, if the Q were really our enemies, I don't think we'd be here now."

Nakamura frowned. "What do you mean? How powerful are they?"

"It's almost unimaginable," Riker said. "Just from what I've experienced, I know that they can travel between planes of existence, teleport themselves and others across space, call upon vast amounts of energy from their own dimension, even destroy whole solar systems-- I could come to your office right now to show you what--" Riker caught himself, suddenly realizing that he'd let himself get a bit carried away. He noticed that Picard was giving him a stern look.

"That won't be necessary," Nakamura said. He, too, seemed a bit unsettled by Riker's claims. "This must all be quite a shock to you... have you been to see the ship's counselor?"

"She's visiting family at the moment," Riker said. It wasn't a lie, but it was the only truth he felt like telling on that subject.

"I see. Well, perhaps you should have a talk with her when she returns..."

"I intend to, sir."

"That's good," Nakamura said. "In the meantime, see that you don't push yourself too hard. It sounds like you've gotten yourself a tough assignment. Nakamura out."

As the screen cut to the Starfleet Command logo, Picard came forward to stand next to Riker. "A tough assignment, indeed."

"Indeed," Riker said, fairly sure that he knew what Picard meant. "What do you think of all that, sir?"

"I have a first officer who thinks he's a god," Picard said. "And what bothers me is, he may very well be right." His expression lightened. "But I can hardly complain. After all, I'm not the one who agreed to spend eternity with our friend Q."

Riker put a hand to his face in mock dismay. "I did, didn't I?"

"Yes, Number One," Picard said, a wry smile flickering on his face. "I believe you did."


	12. Chapter 12

Oops. Accidentally posted part of the previous chapter in this one. Fixed.

Oh, and for reference, Picard and Data's exchange about legends and Riker's harp show were in the original "Haven." It was a strange episode.

Lilith Kayden: Actually, it's better than that. Starfleet retirement age is based on the aging rate of each species (some Vulcans, for instance, can spend upwards of 100 years in Starfleet.) Since Riker won't be aging...

------------

-----------------

----------------------

"Now entering Haven orbit, sir."

Finally, Picard thought. Of all the weeks to have to go without Troi... and besides, he had to admit that Riker's comments about a 'personal matter' had piqued his curiosity. He looked up at the sparkling blue-green planet on the viewscreen.

"What a beautiful world," Picard said, mostly to himself. "It's said that it can heal wounds, or even a broken heart..."

"Such legends, sir, have no basis in facts," Data pointed out.

"No, but... that's not the point, Data. And what makes those sort of stories fascinating is that every so often, they come true." He paused. "While we're here, we should see about getting some shore leave. After our latest run-in with Q, I know _I_ could use some leisure time."

"Sir," Worf said abruptly, "we are receiving a message from the planet surface." He squinted at his control panel, reading it carefully. "It says that they are ready to beam the Troi... _wedding party_ aboard."

"Wedding party? What the devil...?" Picard stood up and turned to look at Worf. "Wedding to whom?"

"It specifies that we will also be receiving the Miller family," Worf said. "Captain, did no one notify you about this?"

Picard thought back to that scene with Riker in his ready room a few days ago-- one of many. A personal matter, indeed. Perhaps he'd been a bit harsh on Will; one could hardly blame him for being upset about _that..._

"Not exactly," Picard said. "Tell them that we'll be ready to beam them up in a few minutes." He tapped his combadge. "Picard to Riker. Meet me in transporter room one."

----------------------

The routine cruise through known space left Riker with plenty of free time. He spent most of it well away from Picard's stern gaze, practicing minor tricks with his powers-- nothing too major. He didn't want to risk draining himself and getting hauled off to the Continuum again. Admittedly, things like peeking into subspace and fixing pancakes without using his hands were a long way from matching an out-of-control nova burst, but without knowing what the limits were or how they worked, even Riker could see that it was best to be careful.

It was also something to do to take his mind off Deanna.

As Riker was creating a small image, a harp duet he'd once seen on Dessa IV, his combadge suddenly beeped. "Picard to Riker. Meet me in transporter room one."

Riker groaned inwardly. He had a feeling he knew what this was about. "Aye, sir. On my way."

With a snap of his fingers, he dispelled the image and teleported himself to the corridor outside the transporter room.

----------------------

"It's Deanna, isn't it?" Riker asked when Picard arrived, several minutes later.

Picard nodded. "Something about a wedding and the Miller family. I trust this is the matter you referred to several days ago?"

"That's right," Riker said. "Apparently Deanna's mother arranged for her to marry a man named Wyatt Miller. I have to admit, I'm not exactly eager to meet him."

"I understand, Will," Picard said, giving Riker perhaps the first friendly look he'd given him all week. "But we do what we must."

"Indeed," Riker said. "By the way, have you met Mrs. Troi?" He felt it was only fair to give Picard some warning of what to expect. "She's quite a... formidable individual."

"No, I don't believe I have," Picard said. "It should be most interesting to meet her."

"I'm sure it will be," Riker said, somewhere between fascination and dread.

--------------------

Mrs. Troi was quite a sight to see. Adorned with extravagant clothing, flanked by a tall servant and several imposing suitcases, she stepped regally off the transporter pad and greeted Picard. "Ah, hello! You must be the captain."

"Indeed," Picard said. "Mrs. Troi? I've heard of your telepathic prowess..."

"Oh, that wasn't telepathy," Lwaxana said. "I just knew the captain would of course be the one to greet me." She turned to Riker. "And how nice to see you again. You left so abruptly, I wondered if something was wrong..."

"No," Riker said thinly. "Nothing wrong." He was grateful for Mrs. Troi's inability to read him.

"And how is your liaison thing with the L going?"

"Q," Riker corrected her.

"Oh, yes, Q, of course. Anyway, I'd love to stay here and chat, but I simply must be getting to my rooms. Would you get my bags?"

It was more of an order than a question. Picard bent down to pick up a bag-- and stayed hunched over it, his face turning red with exertion, for several moments before managing to lift it. His back made a distinct creaking sound, and he shot a brief glare at Lwaxana before staggering to the door.

Riker gingerly reached for the other bag, trying to think of a subtle way to use his powers to avoid spraining something...

------------------------

"As soon as our guests are all welcomed aboard," Picard said once he and Riker were safely clear of Lwaxana's quarters, "I am going to Sickbay to see about having my spine reassembled. I can't imagine what she would be bringing that would be so heavy; I suppose there must be all sorts of special outfits for the wedding..."

Riker, knowing something of Betazoid wedding customs, snickered to himself, covering it with a not-entirely-convincing cough.

"You're just fortunate you got the suitcase with wheels."

Riker decided against telling Picard that he had added the wheels. "I suppose we'll be beaming up the Miller family next?"

"That's right," Picard said. "And then the... couple themselves." He paused. "If you'd prefer not to be there..."

"No, I'm... interested to meet Mr. Miller," Riker said. "But thank you."

They entered a turbolift. "Transporter room one," Picard said. He turned back to Riker. "One other thing. How did Mrs. Troi know about your association with the Q? Telepathy, or did she somehow already know?"

"I was telling Deanna about it," Riker said. "Mrs. Troi was in the room. Is it supposed to be secret?"

"Information like that could lead to trouble if the wrong people hear about it," Picard said. "We'll have a staff meeting about this as soon as we can make the time. How much did you tell her? Does she know about your powers?"

Riker thought back to that conversation. "I don't think so. I didn't mention that part."

"Good," Picard said. The turbolift stopped, and they got out. "Of course, keeping secrets from a telepath like Mrs. Troi is an uncertain business at best. Not that I suspect that she's a security risk, but... I don't like to think about what would happen if it became widely known that we have on this ship a force that can--" He looked around, realizing that they were no longer in the privacy of the turbolift. "We'll talk about this later."

Wonderful, Riker thought. Another thing to look forward to. "Understood, sir."


	13. Chapter 13

To Riker's surprise, the Millers were human, not Betazoid. Picard greeted them with his usual courtesy, then escorted them to their quarters, with Riker staying quiet and following along.

And then it was time to bring the bride and groom on board.

Riker tried not to think any uncharitable thoughts that might interfere with the delicate workings of the transporter. It would be entirely too easy to let his jealous wishes rewrite reality here; he had to maintain control. He closed his eyes, trying to direct his perceptions to the planet below, to think of anything except the incoming matter stream...

His trance was only broken by Deanna's voice. "Captain, I'm sorry this is happening on such short notice. If I had known sooner--"

"It's not your fault, Counselor," Picard said. "I am... happy to hear of this joyous occasion." His effort to sound sincere didn't entirely work; but then, it wouldn't have mattered with Deanna, anyway. "And this must be Wyatt Miller."

"Yes, Captain," Wyatt said, stepping down from the transporter pad to shake Picard's hand.

"Welcome aboard," Picard said. "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard, and this is my first officer, Commander Riker..."

"Riker," Wyatt said, turning to look at him. "Deanna mentioned you. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Wyatt was young, handsome, and-- it seemed to Riker-- not all there. Riker very much wanted to ask what Deanna had said, what had happened between them, but it would be out of place. He just shook Wyatt's hand. "Welcome to the _Enterprise,_ Mr. Miller."

"Your families are already in their rooms," Picard said, "so if you'd like to join them..."

Wyatt nodded and moved towards the door, but Deanna held back. "There's some things I need to take care of now that I'm back," she said. "You can go ahead, I'll be there in a little while."

"All right," Wyatt said. He left the room; Riker was greatly relieved to see Picard go with him. The transporter operator also left, his work done for the moment.

"What happened, Deanna?" Riker asked, as soon as they had privacy. "What's he like?"

Deanna hesitated. "He's a good man, Will," she said. "You don't need to worry about that. He's kind, gentle, sensitive for a human-- maybe because he grew up on Betazed..."

"How well do you know him?"

"To be honest, I hardly know him at all. We met once, when we were children... it was too long ago to remember, now. And he's somehow... distant. I don't think I'm what he expected."

"Do you love him?" It was the most important question, as far as Riker was concerned.

Deanna sighed. "I... can learn to," she said hesitantly.

"You know you don't have to go through with this, if you don't want to," Riker said. "The Federation has a law--"

"I know, Will. But I _do_ have to." Deanna closed her eyes, blinking away the beginnings of tears. "For my mother, for my father. Wyatt isn't a bad person. He's a doctor, he wants to help people." She reached out and gently touched Riker's hand. "Thank you, Will. For caring. And for understanding."

"Always," Riker said.

"I do have to go now. Work-- things I have to take care of." Deanna went to the door. "I'll see you later."

Riker nodded silently, watching her go. He did care, he definitely did, but he wasn't at all sure he understood.

-------------------------

As it turned out, there was time for a staff meeting that evening. Picard, Riker, Data, Worf, Yar, and Dr. Crusher attended; Troi was, understandably, occupied with other matters. With the senior staff gathered around the observation lounge table, Picard began the discussion.

"I'm sure you're all aware of the circumstances of our most recent encounter with Q," Picard said. There were general nods of confirmation.

"All too aware," Worf muttered.

"And most of you are also aware that Mr. Riker has joined Q's... 'organization', and possesses the same powers."

Nods again; apparently it was common knowledge among the bridge crew. Only Yar didn't indicate that she already knew, and she seemed to take it in stride.

"Then I'm sure you all see the problem I'm faced with," Picard said. "How are we going to deal with this?"

"Deal with what?" Crusher asked. "I'm not sure what the problem is."

"Mr. Riker has informed me that Q's powers go well beyond what we've seen him exhibit so far," Picard said. "In effect, he has become a god."

"I wouldn't put it quite that way," Riker interjected.

"My first concern," Picard continued, "is a security issue. I don't like the idea of this information becoming public knowledge. Aside from the people in this room, how many other people know about it?"

"Counselor Troi and her mother, Wesley, and possibly Lieutenant La Forge," Riker said. "And the Q, of course."

Picard let out a small sigh of relief. "Good. That's not too many, then."

"I'll tell Wesley to treat it as confidential," Dr. Crusher said.

"I agree, sir," Yar added. "Power like that would make an excellent secret weapon to use against strong enemies."

"Which brings me to my second concern," Picard said gravely. "Should we make use of this power at all?"

"We've been over that before," Riker said. "I don't see why not. I'm not suggesting that I should just replace the warp drive or anything--" he chuckled slightly at this; no one else did-- "but when I can use my abilities to help with a mission, I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

"The problem with that," Picard said, "is that it's a dangerous road to go down. If we start relying on your powers whenever they might be useful, what's the use of having a ship and crew anymore? Why bother travelling, when you can take us to our destination with the snap of a finger? Who knows what we might miss if we let you do things the quick way, rather than doing it ourselves?"

"What if we get into trouble?" Riker countered. "If we run into something dangerous..."

"Danger is part of our mission," Picard said. "It's part of exploration. It's part of life! For us _mortals,_ that is."

"If we cannot confront death and spit in its face," Worf added, "we are without honor." He glowered at Riker, as if to call him a coward for having chosen immortality. Riker tried to convince himself that he was just imagining that implication.

"So what do you want me to do?" Riker asked defensively. "Do you want to do things by yourselves? Or am I still a member of the crew here?"

"Of course you're a member of the crew," Picard said. "And you are welcome to contribute your _human _skills and abilities to your duty."


	14. Chapter 14

Hi all! Sorry about the wait for this chapter-- been a bit busy lately, what with Christmas preparations and all. This one's a bit shorter than usual, but next chapter I promise I'll bring the good stuff.

Also, if you haven't already done so, check out my new fic "Broken Mirror." It's about Trelane: ) So it's in the TOS section.

--------

-----------

---------------

The limits placed on his existence were starting to chafe on Riker. Time, space, physics, human senses-- he'd spent too much time confined to them, and he was feeling boxed in again. It didn't help that his emotions were translating to internal energy, which was constantly itching for an outlet. He needed to spend some time being a Q, or he felt like he'd explode-- and he already knew that might be dangerously literal.

The announcement of shore leave couldn't have been more welcome.

With a thought and a grin, Riker teleported himself away. It was much easier than he'd expected it to be; having the image of Starfleet Academy to orient himself with certainly helped. In an instant, he was back on the main quad, which seemed much more definite and solid than it had last time... was that a good thing, Riker wondered, or a bad thing?

A few bystanders, noticing his arrival, looked at him with wide eyes. "S-sir?" one of them ventured, looking at the pips on his collar.

...Definitely a bad thing. Trying to navigate by physical images had evidently landed Riker at the _real_ Starfleet Academy. "At ease, cadet," he said, thinking fast. "I've just beamed down to make a report."

It might not have been the most elaborate excuse, but it served its purpose. Riker marched briskly to the nearest building, the old astronomy hall, and began to look around the building for a suitably private location.

An empty classroom presented itself. It was locked, of course. Riker had the ultimate passkey. The door opened when he glanced at it, and he entered the room, ignoring the curious looks from a few passing cadets.

There, now he didn't have to worry about being observed. Now to figure out this business of dimension-crossing and--

"Took a wrong turn?"

Q was leaning against the wall near Riker, arms folded. Riker wasn't surprised. Somehow, he'd been half expecting this.

"If you'd give me some training," Riker said irritably, "I wouldn't keep making mistakes like this."

"Perhaps," Q said, waving his hand, "but that wouldn't be nearly as entertaining, would it?" At Riker's hard stare, he relented. "Although as it happens, the Continuum is of the opinion that you're right. They also believe that I," he affected a put-upon expression, "ought to be the one to teach you the basics, since I was responsible for selecting and recruiting you. And it seems I'm to begin straight away, before you go and do something like vaporize someone's planet."

"Fine with me," Riker said. "I'd like to spend some time off the _Enterprise_, anyway--"

"Ah, yes," Q said. "Your turbulent relationship with the moderately lovely Counselor Troi."

Riker was taken aback. "How much of my life have you been watching?!"

"Only the interesting parts," Q said reassuringly. "And you _could_ block me out--"

"--if I knew how," Riker finished.

"It's for your own safety, anyway," Q said. "With the powers you've got, you could get yourself into all sorts of trouble. I can't let that happen, can I?" He abruptly put an arm around Riker's shoulder, causing Riker to tense up. "We Q have to look out for each other, after all."

"Touching," Riker said thinly.

"Now," Q said, disengaging himself (much to Riker's relief), "I believe you were trying to find your way to the Continuum when you ended up here? Unless you were returning to your _alma mater_ to have a delightful reunion with all those mortals who once presumed to teach you the nature of the universe..."

"Yes," Riker said. "The Continuum. Although a little teaching would be appreciated, too."

Q laughed derisively. "If you would only open your perceptions, _you_ could teach _them._ But I suppose you'll be wanting directions."

He snapped his fingers, and suddenly the classroom was lit up. Although he was caught off guard, Riker could actually sense himself being displaced, and he had a feeling that he could fight it if need be. Before he could react, though, he found himself seated at one of the desks; Q, now dressed in an instructor's uniform, was standing at the front of the room.

"Q, you can't do this!" Riker said, aghast. "Not here! This is Starfleet Academy!"

"Cadet Riker," Q said sternly, "you are not to speak during lecture times without the instructor's permission."

"But this-- someone might be scheduled to use this room! What if they find us?"

"I suggest you review the introductory material."

Riker looked down at his desk and saw a sheet of paper.

_Q 101: Introduction to Omnipotence_

_Instructor: Q_

_NOTE: Students are expected to be familiar with the preliminary seminar, 'The Limitations of Mortal Perceptions: Why Nobody At The Academy Will Notice A Thing.'_

Riker had to stifle a snicker. If Picard was here, he'd be angrily telling Q that it wasn't funny, but... it _was_ sort of funny. Or maybe he'd just been spending too much time with Q.

"Right, class!" Q said crisply, throwing himself into his role of the moment with gusto. "Today we'll be covering the nature of the Q Continuum!"


	15. Chapter 15

Here we are. Fast on the heels of the last one, since I'm visiting family and there isn't much to do here but write.

As always, what Voyager did with/to the Q is being conspicuously ignored here. Oh yes, and there's a little parody of... you'll see. Entirely meant in good fun, I assure you.

With that said, I hope this explanation suffices. : ) Comments are always welcome!

--------

------------

------------------

Riker sat straight up, his interest piqued. Finally, he might be getting some answers to the questions he'd been wondering about. He refrained from saying anything that might give Q the opportunity to get sidetracked again.

"Now, I'm sure you all know what a continuum generally is," Q said, still pretending to be addressing an entire class. Riker quickly glanced around to make sure he was, in fact, still the only other person in the room. "A spectrum, a continuous series of points all connected to one another. The space/time of this universe would be one example, in its own small way." He snapped his fingers, and a four-dimensional diagram of space and time sprang into being, paradoxically floating in the three-dimensional room.

Riker nodded slowly, looking at the diagram. Human senses wouldn't be able to make heads or tails of it. As it was, though, he didn't find it that hard to percieve; it was certainly much more straightforward than subspace bubbles, or the Q Continuum itself.

"Now, our Continuum was once a _bit_ like this universe," Q went on, "although I doubt it'd be very flattered by the comparison. It had a latent consciousness, of course, because existence and consciousness are really just two ways of looking at the same thing, but it didn't always have the level of awareness it's got now. But over, well, what could be compared to time, more and more of the conscious beings in it evolved to the point where they became unified with it, and so the consciousness of the universe itself also evolved--" He paused. "By the way, you might not want to go sharing this sort of information with your mortal friends. They can't understand it the way you and I can."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Riker said. "A number of mortal philosophers, human and Vulcan at least, have been talking about that same sort of thing for ages."

"Oh, they talk about it, or at least throw the words around," Q said. "They've got a basic inkling that it's got _something_ to do with becoming one with the cosmos, but they don't have a clue about how, or what that really means. Like a child who's heard of warp drive, and knows that it works by warping space somehow, but couldn't actually build one and would be likely to blow something up if he tried."

An image of Wesley popped into Riker's mind. He tried not to be amused by the comparison.

"Let me give you an example," Q said. "In a galaxy a few megaclusters over, a while ago, we-- the Q in general, that is, it was before _my_ time-- found two species that struck us as particularly promising. One was a spacefaring humanoid species, not too advanced in metaphysical matters, but with a good grasp of technology and an interstellar government a bit like your Federation. The other was a single-celled microbe species, amazingly simple and primitive for the most part, but they already had a stronger link to the cosmic Unity than most so-called 'higher' material beings ever come close to.

"Like I said, both promising species with remarkable achievements, but they both seemed rather stalled in terms of where to go next. At least, we couldn't see them making any more evolutionary leaps in the near future. So some smartypants got the _brilliant_ idea to stick them into symbiosis-- integrating the microbes into the humanoids' cellular structures. Guess how that turned out?"

"The microbes took over their hosts?" Riker guessed.

"No, nothing as simple as that," Q said bitterly. "The symbiosis went beautifully. The newly 'gifted' humanoids discovered how to access the Unity, sense things through it, even use it to manipulate reality. That was the problem." He sighed. "They made a _religion_ out of it." Q spat the word 'religion' with even more vitriol than usual.

"Ah," Riker said, beginning to see where this was going.

"The next thing they decided was that there were two sides to this whole Unity thing, and each of them believed he was on the right side, and everyone he didn't like was on the wrong side." Q rolled his eyes. "Of course, this whole two-sides nonsense goes against the basic idea of a cosmic Unity in the first place, but try telling _them_ that. Microbes or no microbes, they had no idea what 'unity' meant. Or 'balance', for that matter.

"You can probably guess the rest. They had wars over it-- nasty ones, too. They had just enough technology to make an awful mess of things, remember, and now they had this cosmic power to play with too. Next thing you know, empires falling like dominoes, planets getting blasted to rubble, the whole bit." Q frowned sternly. "And _that,_ Mr. Riker, is why we do not go around handing out enlightenment to the unenlightened."

"Like the Prime Directive," Riker said.

Q laughed, his former serious mood instantly broken. "Maybe a bit, but we're nowhere near _that_ stuffy about it. The way Starfleet does it, you can't even blow your nose on a pre-warp planet without committing half a dozen infractions. If we took it that seriously, we'd never be allowed to leave the Continuum." He paused, suddenly catching himself. "Oh yes, the Continuum! I was just in the middle of explaining it to you, wasn't I?"

Riker gave him a pointed look. "Why do I get the feeling you're stalling?"

"Stalling? Certainly not," Q said defensively. "Just trying to ease you into the more difficult concepts. I know that humans tend to attach high value to things like individuality and self-identity, so it might disturb you if--"

Riker didn't like the direction this was going. "_Tell me,_ Q. Now."

"All right," Q said, "you asked for it. The Continuum is the sum total of all that is Q. All the traits, possibilities, and so forth that our universe originally contained, plus what we've seen fit to pick up since then. 'Individual' Q are arbitrarily defined regions of that totality, with no fixed boundaries. Like me... and you."

"No fixed boundaries?" Riker said, not sure what all this meant, but fairly sure he wouldn't like it when he found out. "You mean I _am_ you?"

"Yes and no," Q said. "I'm Q, you're Q. But we're different parts of Q. The Continuum is the pool we all draw from--" he produced a bowl of water on the desk in front of him-- "and you and I are like two drops of water from that pool." He dipped both hands into the bowl, then raised them, holding a bit of water in each. "And now you know why we wanted you to join us."

Riker nodded slowly. "So that my traits, what I am... would be added to that pool."

"Exactly," Q said. "You had something we were lacking. Now that something is among the options open to all of us. But, and here's the catch..." He lowered his hands over the bowl again, letting the water drip back in. "I told you the Continuum is constantly shifting. That includes us. No fixed boundaries, after all. We slowly change, pick up new traits, lose old ones. Eventually, we aren't the people we were." He pulled another handful of water out of the bowl.

"So you're saying I'm going to become someone else?" Riker said, a cold feeling gnawing at the inside of his stomach. Q was right, this did disturb him.

"That's right," Q said, not seeming terribly concerned. "Try not to let it get to you, though. It happens to all of us. Really, when you think about it, wouldn't it get dull staying the same person for one eternity after another?" He flashed a grin. "Besides, it's a better deal than mortals get."

Riker was somewhat inclined to agree, but he wasn't entirely sure. "How long does this take?"

"Always the questions about time," Q said tiredly. "When this, and how long that, as if the Continuum was like a train that runs every hour on the hour. It happens when it happens, and when you're ready for it to happen. If it comforts you to know, though, you seem confident enough in yourself that you'll still be more or less the same person for many times what your human lifespan would have been."

"Why didn't you tell me about this before I agreed to join you?" Riker demanded.

"Because then you _wouldn't_ have agreed," Q said smoothly. "And you wouldn't have understood. I did tell you some of it-- that you would become part of the Q, to bring us your human traits. You seemed to have some idea of what that meant, at the time."

"I might have," Riker said. "And I know that you told me about we and me being the same thing. But to be honest, I didn't know what to make of it all. What you were telling me, and what you were showing me-- I couldn't put it together."

"Of course not," Q said kindly, with a trace of condescension. "You were mortal, after all."

"And now, I'm..." Riker searched for the words to sum up what he'd been told. "A semi-individual, omnipotent, temporarily defined piece of an evolved, ascended, conscious, meta-cosmic former universe."

Q smiled in confirmation. "Or to put it simply-- a Q."


	16. Chapter 16

Riker tried to think of himself as what Q was saying. An extension of a reality, a drop in a pool. It wasn't an easy concept to reconcile with his self-image-- in fact, it was somewhat frightening. But then, he'd known that he was going to become something alien, a kind of existence very different from humanity. He'd known, and he'd accepted the risk. No doubt a Q would find the prospect of mortal existence just as frightening, if not more so...

"That's all good to know," Riker said with affected casualness, "but I thought you were here to tell me how to get to the Continuum?"

"Ah, yes," Q said. "That little detail. Although with all I've told you, I'm disappointed that you still need to ask."

"You told me..." Riker paused to think. "That I'm a part of it, and... that there's nothing separating me from it." In a flash of realization, it came to him. "I'm connected to it, and all I have to do is follow that connection!"

"You've got the idea," Q said. He smirked. "Now let's see you _do_ it."

Riker closed his eyes and opened up his other senses. There was the Academy all around him, a hub of learning and destiny. For a moment he just stood and took it all in, observing the comings and goings, the organization and the sense of adventure and purpose...

"Or would you rather just stand around and gawk like a tourist?"

Q. Right.

Riker focused his senses on himself and Q, and what connected them. He sensed the same link he'd noticed between the Q before, a link of thought and energy from another reality. He traced it back to its source...

------------------

The overwhelming torrent of trans-cosmic existence was a sure sign that the dimension shift had worked. Feeling somewhat more in control this time around, Riker formed his Academy metaphor before disorientation could set in. Now that the memory of the real thing was fresh in his mind, he was surprised at the differences; unreal angles, shifting colors, and warped proportions made it clear that this wasn't the Academy, or even in the same universe.

"Welcome home," Q said from entirely too close; Riker fought the impulse to back off, quietly impressed that Q could give the sense of violating his personal space even in a dimension where space had no meaning. "Not bad for a first try. Too bad it _wasn't_ your first try."

When Riker percieved Q, the first image his mind saw was the lean, swaggering human form he was familiar with, but he was curious to know what Q really was. The human image faded away as Riker disregarded it, replaced by a series of waveforms that pulsed and spiked like the sound waves of an unheard song. Actually, his perception of the waves was more like hearing than seeing, but trying to translate any part of Q existence into human senses was approximate at best.

"Still," Q went on, either unaware of or unconcerned with Riker's scrutiny, "you've just travelled between levels of existence with a thought. That's nothing to a Q, of course, but it might make for a good story to impress your mortal friends next time you get together to inflict the trivial details of your lives upon each other."

"I don't think so," Riker said. "They don't seem to like it when I mention my powers."

"Fear," Q said simply. "Primal human fear. They like to think of themselves as the masters of the universe, and when they find something that reminds them that they aren't, they're frightened."

Riker grinned. "And how would the Q feel if they met something more powerful than them?"

"You can hardly compare the two," Q sniffed.

"I'm a human turned Q," Riker pointed out. "I think I'm in a pretty good position to compare them."

Q did not acknowledge the comment. "And to answer your question, when we encounter something beyond us, we _learn_ from it. That's why you're here, in case you've forgotten. It's something too many of your shipmates don't seem to understand, despite all the exalted Starfleet ideals they claim to live by."

Riker was trying not to let Q's barbs get to him, but this one stung. "We have learned from our encounters with beings like the Q!" he snapped. "And one of the things we've learned is that they're dangerous to be around! When you're dealing with something that could destroy your ship on a whim--"

"Calm down, Will," Q said lightly. "You're starting to sound like your captain. Next thing you know, you'll be ordering yourself to be thrown off the ship."

Riker gave an exasperated sigh and sat down. He realized with a bit of surprise that he and Q had frame-shifted to the gathering frame at some point; fortunately, nobody else seemed to be paying too much attention to them. "You're right," he said reluctantly. "I do wish they'd accept my powers more. But at the same time, I can understand why they don't. It's not an easy situation you've put us in, you know."

"I seldom put people in easy situations," Q said. "Where would be the fun in that?"


	17. Chapter 17

Hello again. Before you ask: don't worry, the Original Female Character here will not become major, so you can breathe a sigh of relief and put the Sue-bashing sticks down. And as before, everything that happens with Wyatt and the Tarellians is from the episode "Haven." I wouldn't make this stuff up if I could.

LunaticPandora: You're right, it was kind of short. / Sorry. This one should make up for it.

---------

--------------

----------------------

It was perhaps a sad sign of the times that Picard was relieved to find himself faced with a problem that didn't seem to involve Q, Riker, or either of the Trois.

The First Electorine of Haven had contacted the _Enterprise_ with a planetary security concern. An unidentified ship, traveling at sublight speed, had entered the Haven system without authorization and was refusing all attempts at communication. If it proved to be a threat, Starfleet was obligated to take action to defend Haven.

Picard, however, was optimistic. The ship was probably disabled. A single, small ship drifting into the system at sublight hardly sounded like an invasion strategy. He was confident that once communication could be established, any misunderstandings would be cleared up.

"Captain," Data reported, "the unidentified vessel is entering visual range."

"On screen, Mr. Data," Picard said, standing up to take a closer look at the viewscreen.

The screen shifted from a view of Haven to a starfield panorama, with a small dot moving slowly across it. Aside from a purplish tint, it was impossible to discern features at this range. "What's its heading and velocity?"

"Appears to be on a direct course for Haven, sir," Data said. "Equivalent speed, roughly one-fifth impulse."

"It'll take them hours to reach here," Picard said. "I think we can risk leaving orbit long enough to take a closer look at what we're dealing with here. Intercept course, full impulse."

As the _Enterprise_ crossed the Haven system, the alien ship on the viewscreen quickly grew. Within a few minutes, its shape was identifiable: essentially a flat silvery triangle with a broad, forked tip and a large purple sphere in the center.

To someone who didn't know what it meant, it might have been beautiful.

"It can't be," Picard said, his voice subdued with shock. "The Tarellians."

----------------------

Riker's mind wandered back and forth between Q's explanation of his nature and Deanna's upcoming wedding. Neither was a pleasant subject to dwell on.

He sipped a shot of supercooled protomatter and gazed blankly into a history window somewhat like the Guardian of Forever, which a group of other Q were currently using to watch an evolutionary race between two species Riker had never heard of. They were cheering on their favorites and accusing one another of interfering, accusations that occasionally led to a lively debate on whether something could have happened by itself.

They were _people._ They weren't worried about where they came from, or where they were going-- the process of identity drift was as natural to them as birth and death were to humans, and as far from their minds most of the time.

A presence approached Riker. "Hey, new guy."

It was the female Q he'd met on his first trip here. She appeared as something like a star's corona without the star. "Hello... Q, was it?" Riker said, reflecting that she had been right about the convenience of the one-name system.

"And here I thought you weren't any good at remembering names," she said lightly. "Aren't you the Grand Overlord of Andromeda?"

"Will Riker," he corrected her. He had the feeling that the conversation was supposed to continue, and that it was his turn to continue it, but he didn't know what it was supposed to be about. "What brings you here?" he asked lamely.

"You're upset," she said. "I could feel the tension straining your essence from across the frame. Q just gave you The Talk, didn't he?"

Riker was a bit embarrassed to hear that his emotions were so visible. "That's right," he said. "I guess I'm still getting used to the idea."

"Yes, I suppose it would be quite a change from your former limited existence, wouldn't it? And it can't be easy having Q to learn it from."

Despite all he'd seen, Riker was somewhat surprised to hear what sounded like sympathy coming from a Q. "He's not the easiest person to get along with, no. I gather he has a bit of a reputation here."

"A bit!" The corona-Q laughed. "Half the time we can't decide whether to congratulate him or dissociate him. Has anyone told you about what he did with the Pagh?"

"No," Riker said, privately wondering what the Pagh might be. "What?"

"Well, he did something to make them angry. Scattering their orbs around in some kind of scavenger hunt, I gather. So the Pagh came here and demanded an official apology, and Q gave them what he claimed was a high-potential naked singularity to make up for all the trouble. It was actually a pre-expansion protouniverse! We never did find out who he stole _that_ from. And by the time the Pagh found out, they'd already put it in their subspace tunnel, and they couldn't risk removing it for fear that it'd go off as soon as they got it into linear time. So now they just have to be very careful to make sure nobody brushes up against it."

She was obviously displeased with Q's actions, but it was just as clear that she found the story amusing. Riker didn't completely understand it, but he got the general idea. "That sounds like him, all right."

"As I recall," the corona-Q added, "the Pagh threatened to send their Emissary to personally hit Q in the face if he ever materialized in the Bajor system." She chuckled. "I think they were actually serious."

"I'd like to see that," Riker said, grinning.

-------------------------

There wasn't much time left for a peaceful solution.

The Tarellians were helpless people in search of a cure, and Picard didn't like the prospect of having to destroy them. But he could not let them spread their plague to Haven. Wherever the other Tarellian ships had gone, entire civilizations had fallen to their disease. And this ship was refusing to respond to any of the _Enterprise_'s hails.

If all else failed, though, it was a weak ship-- except for the primitive (and apparently malfunctioning) warp drive, it was the equivalent of early 21st-century Earth technology. A single photon torpedo could destroy it, if necessary.

It was starting to look like it would be necessary.

Dr. Crusher and Wyatt Miller were putting together a package of medical supplies to send to the Tarellians as a goodwill gesture. Simply beaming it over wouldn't be enough, though-- and they couldn't risk sending someone over there. Anyone exposed to the Tarellian plague would have to be kept away from all other life-forms, even if they survived the initial infection.

"The Tarellian ship is approaching transporter range of the planet," Data said.

Could the Tarellians have transporters? It was unlikely, but there was no sense in wasting any more time. "Yar, lock tractor beams on that ship. Make sure they can't maneuver or beam out."

Tasha engaged the tractor beams, trapping the Tarellian ship in a web of force. "Got them, sir. They won't be going anywhere."

"Maybe now they'll listen," Picard said. "Mr. Worf, continue hailing them."

Worf turned to his console for a few moments, then looked up. "We are recieving a reply."

"Excellent. On screen."

The Tarellian signal, sent by primitive and weak equipment, took some time to form an image on the main viewscreen. When the image appeared, it was of a chamber lit by soft purple light, in which a young woman (but how could she be young, when the Tarellian plague was so long in the past?) and an older man stood.

Troi's eyes widened when she saw the Tarellians. "Captain!" she whispered urgently to Picard. "That woman-- Wyatt painted her!"

----------------------------

Wyatt looked from the painting in his hands to the viewscreen several times, hardly believing that what he was seeing was real. He'd been called to the bridge because the Tarellians had asked for him by name; that was strange enough, but this was... impossible. But there she was. "It's you," he said softly. "It's really you."

"Wyatt," the Tarellian woman said. "I am Ariana. I knew you would be here. I knew you would help us."

"Mr. Miller," Picard interjected, "do you two know each other? What is going on?"

"I think we do," Wyatt said. "I mean, we sort of do. She's the one I've always dreamed of..."

"But what is she doing _here,_ on a plague ship?!"

"I don't know," Wyatt said, as mystified as Picard was. "I thought she was just a fantasy."

"Maybe Mother would know," Troi suggested.

Wyatt looked at her. "You're right. I'll go ask her." He turned to the viewscreen. "Ariana... I'll see you later."

--------------------------

"...so now she's going to marry him, and what we had together doesn't matter. And I'm expected to be happy for them. So I came here."

Riker was surprised to find himself telling someone he barely knew the story of Deanna's engagement, but somehow the conversation had gotten to this topic, and the ease of communicating through direct ideas rather than words had led him to share the whole thing before he knew it. Maybe he just needed to get it off his chest, or maybe the protomatter was kicking in.

"At least now you have us to come to," the corona-Q said. "In just a few of your linear days, you've lost one of your relationships-- but you've also become a Q! Isn't that more important?"

"That's just it," Riker said. "It's too much all at once. And you know the most frustrating part? I have all this power, so much I can _taste_ it, but there's nothing I can do. I can turn a planet inside out, but I can't stop Deanna from marrying a man she doesn't love."

"That's the problem with getting attached to mortals," the corona-Q said sagely. "They say their love will last 'forever', but they can just toss around words like that because they know they won't have to live up to them. They're finite, temporary creatures, and before you know it, one way or another... they'll be gone."

"I know that," Riker said, not happy to be reminded of it. "But I'd like to at least have a lifetime..."

"She's finite, you're infinite. It wouldn't work out."

"I'm not so sure about that," Riker said. "We could have made it work."

------------------------

Several hours into the standoff with the Tarellians, and very little progress had been made. They insisted on going to Haven, convinced that they wouldn't spread the plague as long as they landed in a remote area. And they wanted to meet Wyatt Miller. The first was impossible; the second was incomprehensible. And yet, for reasons Picard couldn't even guess at, Miller did have some connection with the woman named Ariana.

Picard hoped that Lwaxana Troi's advice would shed some light on the situation. It was doubtful, from what he'd seen of her so far, but it seemed to be their only lead.

"Captain!" La Forge said suddenly, while still watching his console. "Transporter room two just activated. We're beaming something over to the Tarellian ship."

"The medical supplies?" Picard guessed. He touched the intercom button on his chair. "Bridge to transporter room two, have the medical supplies been transported to the Tarellians?"

No answer.

"Transporter room two! Report!"

Still nothing.

"Lt. Yar," Picard began, "have a security team check--"

"That won't be necessary, Captain."

It was Wyatt's voice. And it was coming from the viewscreen. With a sinking feeling, Picard turned to face him. "Mr. Miller, what exactly do you think you're doing?"

"I have to help these people," Wyatt said sadly. "It's what I was meant to do. That's why... destiny brought me to Haven. I'm sorry. Deanna, I'm so sorry... I'll never forget you."

"Wyatt!" Deanna said. "Wait! We can--" She caught herself. "We can't bring him back, can we?"

Of course. Wyatt had been exposed to the Tarellian plague. Unless he somehow managed to cure it, he'd have to remain with them...

"A ship that shouldn't exist," Picard said to himself, a sickening thought beginning to occur to him. "Appearing here, at this point in time... to carry off the man who was going to marry Deanna Troi."

"Captain?" Wyatt asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Stay where you are for the time being," Picard said. His voice was grim. "I'll make sure things are put right."

---------------------------

"The best thing to do," the corona-Q said, "would be to find someone you can relate to. Someone on the same level of existence as you." She slowly drifted closer to Riker. "I'm sure that many Q would find your human drive and youthful vitality attractive. Of course, there aren't that many who take on gender traits... but if you look around, you're bound to find someone."

With a little jump of surprise, Riker realized that she was applying for the position herself. He wondered why he hadn't seen it sooner. Maybe it just hadn't crossed his mind to think of the Q in _that_ way. Now that he thought about it, though, it did make a strange kind of sense.

And he had to admit, he was tempted. She seemed to be sensitive, she was there when he needed her, and she was almost literally a goddess... and wouldn't it make Deanna feel better to know that he could move on? Would it?

Not now, Riker decided. It was too soon. Maybe after Deanna's wedding... but not now.

"Thanks," he said. "It's good to know where to start looking. When I'm ready. Thanks for listening, but for now... I need time."

The corona-Q passed him a bottle of something more dimensional than material. Sure enough, it was labelled TIME, and small print clarified that it was 17 radium half-lives. "That's the stuff. Heals all wounds, they say."

"This isn't quite what I mean," Riker said. "I mean, I need to go back to my ship. I have a wedding to attend."

"Shall I send you there?"

Riker shook his head. "No, this time I'd rather arrive _with_ my hair, thank you."

They laughed, and then Riker turned to go.

---------------------------

When he reappeared on the _Enterprise,_ the first thing Riker did was make sure that he hadn't overstayed his leave time or missed Deanna's wedding. He hadn't, on both counts, but there was a message from Picard asking him to report to the ready room as soon as he got in.

So Riker went to meet Picard in the ready room, making sure to call ahead and enter through the usual doors. He didn't want to make the captain upset again. The moment he entered the room, though, it was clear that it was too late for that.

"Mr. Riker," Picard said with icy cold fury, "what you have done this time confirms everything I've feared. You've become no better than Q himself. You will undo this charade. _Immediately._"


	18. Chapter 18

Hello once again. Lwaxana's philosophical turn here is once again paraphrased from "Haven"; I'll be almost sorry to be through with that episode, because I won't have it to blame my bad writing on. On the other hand, the next scheduled episode is "The Big Goodbye", a holodeck malfunction episode, so the cheesiness bar is still set pretty high...

Lunatic Pandora: It was a blatant deus ex machina in the episode, so it sort of makes sense that Picard would suspect that's exactly what it is...

Zara: Somehow, I don't think "flashing" anything would improve relations here. ; )

--------

---------------

-----------------------

Riker was speechless for a moment, stunned by the intense anger in Picard's voice. What had he missed while he'd been away? "I-- I don't understand, sir," he stammered. "What do you mean?"

Picard scowled. "I think you know damn well what I mean."

Riker glanced at his reflection on the polished desk; he didn't look any different than usual. The _Enterprise_ was clearly still in one piece, and not at alert status, and a quick scan with his expanded senses showed that Haven was still where it ought to be. That ruled out all the obvious possible crises, and Riker was sure he hadn't done anything lately that would make Picard this upset, even with his decidedly limited patience for Q-related activities. Riker's mind whirled, trying to figure out what Picard could be referring to. Maybe one of the Q had shown up during his absence and framed him for something? Maybe Picard had somehow heard about him sneaking into that locked classroom at the Academy?

"I'm sorry, but I really don't know what you're talking about," Riker said with just a touch of desperation. "I've been with the Q all day. I haven't done anything."

Picard's gaze was as stony as ever.

"Can't you at least tell me what I'm accused of?!"

"I am referring," Picard said, "to the Tarellian vessel which entered this system at 0920 hours today."

"Tarellian?" Riker vaguely remembered hearing the name somewhere; something to do with a plague, wasn't it? "What does that have to do with _me?_"

"Years after the last Tarellian ship was destroyed," Picard continued in a low monotone, "this one appeared and demanded, of all people, Wyatt Miller. Counselor Troi's husband-to-be. A Tarellian woman somehow knew everything about him, and Mr. Miller somehow managed to sedate a transporter operator on duty and beam himself over to the Tarellian ship to be with this woman who he'd never met before. And because he has been exposed to the Tarellian plague, we have no choice but to leave him there." Picard looked Riker straight in the eyes. "Quite a remarkable set of coincidences, don't you think?"

Riker tried to take all this in. Wyatt was gone? The wedding was off? "Yes, it is, but--" He was taken aback as he realized what Picard was implying. "You think _I_ caused all that?"

"Do you already think so little of us humans that you expected me not to draw the connection?" Picard said. "We both know that you have the power to arrange this sequence of events, and it worked out exactly in your favor. You wanted it to happen. You could make it happen. And it happened!"

As much as Riker hated to admit it, there was a certain amount of sense to what Picard was saying. He'd have to find out the full story later, but from what he'd heard so far, the incident with the Tarellians did sound implausible. He could see how Picard might think he had something to do with it...

A disturbing thought occurred to Riker. Maybe this _was_ somehow his doing. He could alter reality with his thoughts, after all, and he'd certainly wished something would happen to prevent Deanna from leaving with Wyatt... the old saying "Be careful what you wish for, because you might get it" took on new meaning for a Q. The nova incident rose to the forefront of Riker's mind. He was certainly capable of doing things with his powers that he didn't exactly intend...

No. Riker fought back the rising fear. That incident had been a raw, spontaneous burst of emotion; surely something as detailed and delicate as this would be more than his subconscious was capable of.

Then again, his mind was much more than it had been...

"...No!" Riker burst out, as much to himself as to Picard. "I didn't do it. I had nothing to do with it."

"So you claim," Picard said coolly, showing no apparent response to the fact that there was an angry Q in front of him. "And because I don't technically have _proof_ that you did it, I can't actually bring charges against you. That, I suspect, is a matter for the Q themselves. I remind you, however, that Mr. Miller is likely to die of the Tarellian plague unless something is done."

"And you want me to cure him?" Riker asked. "I thought you made me promise not to do things like that."

"In this case," Picard said, "you would be undoing what you've already caused. It hardly unbalances the universe to save people from diseases that _you gave them._" He looked intently at Riker. "I believe the Will Riker I know is still in there somewhere. You know what the right thing to do is. Now all you have to do is do it."

There was such a sense of finality about the words that Riker didn't even try contradicting Picard again. After a long, quiet moment, he changed the subject. "How does Deanna feel about all this?"

"It's been a difficult experience for her," Picard said, his voice losing some of its angry edge. Maybe he was relieved that Riker even cared about how anyone else felt.

"Can I see her?" Riker asked urgently. He had to know whether he'd still lost her. Whether she blamed him for all this too.

Picard considered it. "I suppose so," he said slowly. "She's in her quarters. I expect you two will have a lot to talk about. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir." Riker stood and walked out the door, stinging from Picard's anger and distrust. He didn't know what he'd do if Deanna treated him the same way.

He was starting to wish he'd never come back from the Continuum.

----------------------

Riker pressed the chime button on Deanna's door and waited for an answer. She would know it was him. Even though she couldn't sense his feelings, she could still sense his presence. If she didn't want to see him, she could refuse to answer...

Fortunately, though, the door opened to reveal Deanna. "Hello, Will," she said, with a feeling in her voice that was hard to identify but at least wasn't anger. "Come in. I was just visiting with Mother."

Sure enough, Lwaxana was seated by the stateroom window, giving Riker a look of appraisal. Riker sighed quietly. So much for privacy.

"Yes, do come in," Lwaxana said. "So much has happened while you've been away. Where have you been?" With a gesture of frustration, she indicated the computer terminal. "All this thing would tell me was that you weren't on the ship."

"I've been in the Q Continuum," Riker said.

"Oh, yes, yes, that liaison thing you mentioned," Lwaxana said. "But at a time like this? Couldn't you have told them to wait?"

Riker shrugged. "Well, you know how it is-- duty calls."

Lwaxana gave him a pointed look. "You're lying." Deanna glared at her, no doubt sending her a telepathic rebuke. It didn't seem to have any effect.

Riker looked at Lwaxana in surprise. "I thought you couldn't read my mind..."

"I don't have to know what you're thinking to know what you're thinking," Lwaxana said haughtily. "It's written all over you."

There was no getting anything past Lwaxana. "All right," Riker said. "I wanted to stay out of the way so I wouldn't... complicate matters. With everything going on with Wyatt... Captain Picard told me some of what happened, but I don't think I have the whole picture."

"I'm not sure any of us do," Deanna said. "What I do know is that after you left, an unidentified ship appeared at the edge of the system..."

----------------------------

"...and we can't bring him back," Deanna concluded.

Riker nodded slowly. "Do you have any idea _why_ it all happened?" he ventured, hoping that Picard hadn't shared his suspicions with her.

"Of course I do," Lwaxana said. "All consciousness, after all, is part of the same greater whole. All living things in the universe are bound together, across time and space."

Riker indulged in a small grin. "Someone once told me something like that."

"No doubt," Lwaxana said confidently. "Although it's so simple and obvious that most humans never manage to understand it."

"And that _definitely_ sounds like something he'd say," Riker said wryly.

"That bond is what brought Wyatt and Ariana together," Lwaxana said. "They were meant for each other. So I suppose it all worked out for the best, after all. But it still leaves my poor daughter without a husband..."

"Mother!" Deanna said sharply.

"...and it seems a shame to have gone to all the wedding preparations and then not have a wedding," Lwaxana continued, ignoring Deanna. "Perhaps I should seek out a new mate myself. Captain Picard is quite a handsome man, you know..."

"_Mother!_"

"...Or the dashing Commander Riker," Lwaxana said slyly, causing Riker to go rigid with sudden fear.

Deanna put a protective arm around Riker. "No. He has... other obligations."

Lwaxana smiled contentedly, watching them. "Yes," she said. "I thought he might."

Riker sighed with relief, returning Deanna's touch. One thing, at least, was right with his world.

----------------------------

--------------------

----------

Don't worry, that's not the end... Riker's not NEARLY out of trouble yet. Heh heh heh.


	19. Chapter 19

Hi all. Sorry for the long wait... I had a hard time figuring out how to write the first part of this. (Rediscovering Diablo II probably didn't help, either.)

Thanks for all the reviews and favoriting! It's much appreciated : )

-------

------------

------------------

Picard sat at the center of the bridge, overseeing the everyday running of the ship and the comings and goings of shore leave parties, trying to look like a captain. He didn't feel very much like one. Everything that was happening was simply out of his control.

He hadn't exactly been pleased about the news of Counselor Troi's engagement-- it would be a pity to lose an officer like her, and on a personal level, Picard found the arranged marriage custom stifling and outdated-- but if Troi consented to it, and it was the will of both families, he was obligated to see it through.

By the same token, if Wyatt truly did wish to break off the engagement, he couldn't be forced into it. If he spontaneously decided to elope with a woman he'd never met, that was his decision to make.

_If_ it was his own, spontaneous decision. It didn't help that Riker was back on the bridge, acting as if nothing was wrong.

At the back of the bridge, the turbolift doors opened, and Worf stepped out. "Captain," he said, "the Millers have arrived."

Picard wasn't surprised. Wyatt's parents had asked to speak to Wyatt and Picard, and Worf had been sent to bring them to the bridge. "Very well." He stood up, turning to face the turbolift. "Welcome to the bridge, Mr. and Mrs. Miller."

Victoria Miller strode forward to meet him, brushing Worf aside, something which few humans would dare to do. She looked at Picard with a furious glare. "What sort of captain are you?!" she demanded. "How could you let this happen to our son?"

Steven Miller cautiously moved to his wife's side, glancing between Worf and Picard. Although not as livid as Victoria, he was clearly unhappy.

"Now, now," another woman's voice cut in, and Picard was not surprised to see Lwaxana Troi also stepping out of the turbolift. "I'm sure Jean-Luc didn't mean for it to happen. There was nothing he could have done about it, anyway."

"Nothing?" Steven said testily. "The man has an entire starship at his command, and Wyatt managed to knock out a crewmember and hijack a transporter, which doesn't sound like our Wyatt at all, and there was _nothing_ you could have done?"

Picard wasn't sure how much to tell them. He couldn't reveal his suspicions about the actual culprit; that would lead to a discussion of things he'd much rather not discuss with strangers... "We are investigating what happened," he said stiffly. "There is the possibility of alien influence--"

"Why, Jean-Luc, now you're just being silly," Lwaxana interrupted. "How could Mr. Riker possibly be responsible?"

Of all the times for her to show off her telepathic powers... Picard only hoped she hadn't overheard anything that might explain how Riker could have done this. "You're right, of course," he said with exaggerated nonchalance. "It was a silly idea. I was only trying to... consider all the possibilities." He cleared his throat, knowing how lame that explanation must have sounded. "If you have any ideas on what could have inspired Mr. Miller to undertake this course of action, I am open to suggestions."

He turned to Deanna, hoping that she might have learned something of use during her time with Wyatt, but she didn't seem to be listening. She was looking at Riker, her expression somewhere between shock and anger.

--------------------

The rest of the afternoon on the bridge felt like an eternity, Riker thought-- although he didn't know that, not yet. He knew he'd have plenty of time to get personally acquainted with eternity.

The Millers spoke to their son, the government of Haven called again to ask when the plague ship was going to leave their orbit, and Deanna... there was no telling what she was thinking, but that look she'd given Riker had made him nervous.

When the duty shift ended, Riker tried to casually make his way into the same turbolift as Deanna, but she walked briskly off the bridge before he could get up. "Deck six!" she said as soon as she entered the turbolift, and the doors promptly closed.

When she reached Deck Six, Riker was there waiting for her.

"I didn't do it, Deanna," he said, frantic to get the words out before she walked past. "I know how it looks, but I had nothing to do with it. You've got to believe me!"

Deanna stopped and turned to face him. "I don't know what to think," she said hesitantly. "The thought never crossed my mind until Mother brought it up... and I..."

"You know I wouldn't lie to you," Riker insisted.

"I know you never have," Deanna said, "but now... I can't sense you anymore. I can hear your words, but I can't feel anything behind them."

"And you think I'd take advantage of that?"

"No," Deanna said, looking into Riker's eyes as if searching for something. "I just..." She broke off eye contact and looked down. "I'm sorry, Will. I don't know." Her voice sounded slightly choked.

She turned around and started walking down the hall again. This time, Riker made no move to follow her.

-----------------------

In his quarters, Picard was reading one of his Dixon Hill books, trying to take his mind off his troubles. It was working, too. Something about the hard-boiled detective from the 1930s struck a chord with Picard, even centuries later and light-years away; maybe he should try simulating these stories on the holodeck one of these days...

His reading, though, was abruptly interrupted by an all-too-familiar flash of light.

"Mr. Riker," Picard said, slowly looking up from his book, "now is hardly the time to--"

It wasn't Riker.

"Q!!" Picard stood up immediately, nearly dropping his book in his haste. "I do _not_ want to deal with you tonight." He met Q's eyes with an angry glare.

"I assure you, the feeling is mutual," Q said, creating a large and ornate chair for himself and sitting down in an authoritative pose. "Unfortunately, I have a duty. And my sense of responsibility could hardly--"

Picard scoffed.

Q frowned sharply. "A-hem. The point is, you're mistreating one of my fellow Q, one who has done nothing to deserve it. I can't allow you to do that."

"Mr. Riker is an officer under my command," Picard said. "If you intend to interfere with how I maintain discipline among my crew--"

"Oh, nothing of the sort," Q said airily. "I wouldn't dream of depriving you of the fun of playing petty dictator."

"Something you understand all too well," Picard said bitterly.

Q leaned forward. "I understand a lot more than you realize. And I understand that how you feel about Riker has nothing to do with your notions of 'crew discipline.'"

"I can not allow a member of my crew to manipulate people's lives for the sake of his own personal interests!"

"Oh, I'm not just talking about the whole debacle with the Tarellians," Q said, idly leaning his head on his hand. "As much of a travesty of justice that was. No, that's just the most recent manifestation of the real problem." He narrowed his eyes and grinned. "The real problem, Jean-Luc, is that you're jealous."

Picard's jaw dropped. "_Me?! _Jealous? Of Riker?"

"Well, that or a raging anti-Q bigot," Q said, as if stating something perfectly obvious. "Or quite possibly, both. And here I thought that your species had 'evolved past such things...'"

"I am not jealous of Riker," Picard said firmly. "I don't want your power, and I have absolutely no wish to join your Continuum!"

"Sadly enough, that's probably true," Q said. "Even if you had the power, you don't have the imagination to do anything useful with it." He rolled his eyes. "Although if you dread having power so much, your life as a starship captain must be constant agony."

Picard stared straight at Q, not rising to this jab.

"No," Q continued confidently, "that's not what you're jealous about. What really has your knickers in a twist, Jean-Luc, is that we made the _offer _to Riker and not to you. After all, if cosmic forces should take an interest in anyone on this ship, you'd expect it to be you, wouldn't you? But we overlooked you in favor of one of your _underlings._ We were more impressed by Riker than by you, and that must be absolutely tearing at your ego."

"There are many things by which I judge my self-worth," Picard said in a barely restrained voice. "The approval of the Q Continuum is _not_ one of them."

"Oh, you can tell yourself that," Q said, "but it still burns you up that someone else got it instead of you. No, you don't want the power, but what you do want is the opportunity to prove that you're somehow better than us. That's why you wish we'd made you the offer. So you could have turned it down, no doubt with some pompous speech, and fulfilled your sense of moral superiority over the Q and Riker and whoever else. But you didn't get the chance." Q tsk'ed and shook his head. "So you tried to get Riker to do it for you, so that you could take the credit and gloat in my face anyway. But he was too smart to pass up an opportunity like this just so you could score your superiority points, and _that_ is what you're angry at him for. Not this little inconvenience with the Tarellians, which incidentally neither he nor I had anything to do with."

"If I'd wanted someone to lecture me on my own thoughts," Picard said witheringly, "I would have sought out the far more pleasing company of Mrs. Troi."

"I haven't been reading your mind. If I did, it would probably put me to sleep." Q smiled. "But I'm right, aren't I?"

"Q, I see that I will accomplish nothing by continuing to debate this with you," Picard said. "Kindly conclude whatever business you have with me and leave."

Q stood up. "Very well. I think it's already been concluded." He leaned in close to Picard's face. "We'll just see if you've been paying attention."

With that, he vanished.

Picard glared intently at the chair Q had been occupying. First thing tomorrow, he was going to find some way to remove that tacky thing from his quarters.


End file.
